Unhinged
by xYugen
Summary: "Unhinged" revisits the events of Jerome's arc with an added twist. Jerome's rebirth is met with a wicked young woman with a troubled past. Amelia is inspired from Nancy in the film "The Craft", offering a dynamic for a story with a bit of a "Harley and Joker" type vibe. Enjoy!
1. Wakey, Wakey

The last thing Jerome Valeska recalled was having a knife plunged into his throat by that bastard _Theo Galavan._ Those events had long passed, and he'd woken in a bit of a haze, laying upon something cold and hard. A work bench, of some sort? A figure loomed over him, and that's when he'd felt seering pain tracing down the side of his face, near his temple. A hand shot forward, clutching the figure tightly by the neck and pulling him to look into Jerome's hazel, wild eyes. The figure came into view slowly as he blinked a bit, and then emitted a soft growl. "And just _what the hell_ do we have here?" Jerome asked through gritted teeth, head tilting a bit, though it was difficult to move. His body had been dormant for so long, and was annoyingly stiff. Unbeknowst to Jerome, it was Dwight, the current leader of Jerome's cult, of sorts. His grip had not faltered at it's place on the panicking man's neck.

Dwight had been successful; he'd brought Jerome back from the dead. It was better late than never as well. He'd gone through the process of sending varying shockwaves through the young man's body several times over. Dwight had nearly acted on instinct. In order to please Jerome's followers, who waited eagerly for his rebirth, Dwight was _just_ about to remove Jerome's face to create a mask, of sorts. The effort had resulted in about a 3 inch incision along Jerome's temple, before he had woken and abruptly began strangling him. Dwight moved his hands frantically, motioning to the machines and wires around Jerome. Jerome's wide gaze followed slowly, as he took in what had just been achieved. "I brought you back," Dwight clarified, voice rasping out desparately against the hold on his neck. With a loud cough, he'd at last been released, stumbling backward a little, shoes slipping against the cement ground. Jerome peered around curiously, his red brows furrowed as he muttered to himself, trying to take in what just happened.

"Huh," the ginger maniac at last uttered, vaguely impressed. With a stretch, he scooted his way off of the work bench. Dwight watched as the 18 year old psycho took a look around, and then yanked a camera out of a half-open bag sitting upon a work cart. "Hmmm," Jerome considered as he set the camera in place on it's stand, angling it towards Dwight, whom was struggling to stand on his own violently wobbling legs. Jerome tilted his head down a little, a large and menacing smile creeping onto his lips as he gazed intently at Dwight; who in turn stared back, doe-eyed and frightened. _What was Jerome planning?_ "We've got some work to do, don't we, old pal?" Jerome quipped, with a manical laugh that echoed against the warehouse walls.

-That night-

Soft chanting emitted past Amelia's lips, still stained with faint red from her favorite lipstick. Amelia rocked softly back and forth, candle light dancing across her freckled skin. The front door opened quietly, though she did her best to drown it out. It wasn't usual for Holly or Laura to come home most nights, they both were quite into their boyfriends. Though, they knew to enter quietly, as you never knew when Amelia might be doing some spell work. It was a cleansing ritual; nightmares were plaguing her yet again, all about that filthy piece of trash that took advantage of her years ago. She killed him, but certainly not the memories. Amelia was shaking as she chanted, willing the memories to leave. Soft footsteps approached. "Are you okay?" Holly's voice whispered. Amelia opened her eyes, turning to look at Holly, who looked sleep deprived. "You know I wouldn't have interrupted if I wasn't concerned," she said, noting Amelia's slightly vexed expression. It fell away quickly however as she stood, making her way to the living room couch.

"Nightmares again," Amelia said as the two of them sat. "It's driving me nuts," she threw her arms up, defeated. "It's gotten to the point I have to try healing rituals. So far, it hasn't even helped." Holly placed a hand on Amelia's. The trembling came to a slow halt as she sighed deeply. "So, how about you, sis? Everything okay?" Amelia's green eyes gazed at Holly. She had been coming home more lately, looking down, and Amelia's suspicions were rising. Holly half smiled.

"Yeah. I actually just came by to get some chamomile. And pot," Holly stated, sensing Amelia's suspicion and trying to make her way out of any questions. She stood, went to grab the herbs from a locked drawer and then was approaching the door. "Couldn't sleep either. See you in the morning!" And then, she was gone. Amelia glared at the door, and then huffed. Slowly she stood, drifting toward the drawer that Holly had left open. Some pot didn't sound so bad at that moment, in fact it was likely much needed. There was a broken piece of a "jack in the box" inside, namely the head portion; a little jester looking fellow. Amelia picked it up from the concert venue she worked at, at one point, back when Jerome Valeska still lived. There was a band in tribute to him, and one of the fans left it behind on the floor. Amelia found it while cleaning up that night. The whole thing seemed outrageous to her, the only reason she kept it was because she liked the design. Somehow, her gaze couldn't leave it though. She'd never thought much of the piece before, but in that moment, it was as if the little guy's purple eyes were peering into her; somehow alive…

Amelia shook her head, chalking up any odd feelings to her blasted nightmares. Taking the pot, she slammed the drawer shut, locked it, and made her way out to the patio.


	2. Let's Make a Deal

Jerome had Dwight bound up in a rope in no time, a strip of silver duck tape clasping his mouth shut. Jerome was done hearing him whine about how he'd brought him back to life and _yadda, yadda, yadda._ He was no longer needed and had tried to remove Jerome's face, after all. "The thing is, Dwight..." Jerome sent on as he circled the bound, sweating, scruffling man slowly. "Sure, you ran things for a bit while I was kept dormant in a metal _box,_ but you're no longer needed." He thought for a brief moment, tapping his chin a little. "I suppose you could say you are still helping though," he angled the camera to them now, hazel eyes burning into Dwight, riddled with dark intent as a grin stretched his lips. "This city's gotta know I'm back somehow, and you my friend, will be how I make that point... right about... _now_ ," with a press of a button, he proceeded recording, face close to the camera lens now.

"My, my, _my_ Gotham! Now let me tell you, dieing is... dull," he tilted his head a bit, and then smiled a wicked smile. "But coming back, oh is that _something!_ It truly can give you a whole new perspective on things... And boy do I have plenty in store for you," his tone dropped as he peered into the camera, a snigger stretching his smile further before he motioned to Dwight behind him. "Jerome is _back!_ And this little cult leader, _weeeelll_ he's just kinda in the way now, huh?" Pulling out a gun, he shot and killed Dwight with ease, his body falling over with a _thud_ in it's seat. A sinister cackle fled from Jerome's lips before he looked into the lens once more, hands clutching either side of the camera. "Hang on to your hats folks, cause that's just the beginning. Tonight... Gotham will be _reborn!"_

-That night-

Amelia and her sisters had met up after they were each done with work, at the library. They'd made the decision to look around for a few more spell books, or just whatever may have caught their eye. There as a quiet hum as people talked as Amelia scanned around the vast array of shelves. The hum however began to raise gradually until it had reached a frantic chatter. Amelia looked over the front of the store, noticing people were beginning to flock over, craning their necks to look at whatever was going on outside. Amelia furrowed her thin eyebrows a bit, and then rolled her eyes. _'Gotham never does get a break, does it?'_ She mused in her mind, making her way over to see what the issue was. Her sisters had made their way over too, until the three of them stood just in front of the large store window. People outside were clamoring, running about. That's when Amelia noticed that a flock of Jerome's followers were breaking into different shops. One building was proceeding to burst into flames a short distance off. Amelia stared for a moment, before her mind wandered to the little Jack in the Box head and that odd pull she felt the previous night. Could it be...? " _Amelia!"_ Her dark haired sister, Laura's, voice cut through the air, snapping her out of her thoughts. Though Amelia was already being trampled by a young man clad in black leather and spiked, purple hair that had busted his way through the window. Amelia wrestled him to the ground, hands clutching his thick arms. He was baring his yellow teeth, cackling loudly in her face before Amelia whacked him in the face and escaped his hold. Though the cult member hadn't given up and was grasping at her ankles. To which, Amelia kicked him several times, until he'd stopped moving for a moment.

Amelia's large, green and eyeliner-rimmed eyes shifted back up to the scene outside then, latching onto the eyes of another who stood just a few feet away; amongst the chaos. He was juggling knives, a wide smile stretching his lips, exposing his sharp canines. When Jerome's gaze met hers, he stopped juggling, catching each knife that fell without having to look. He tilted his head a little, curiously as he observed the dark haired young woman who had just claubered one of his cult members. Hazel eyes were glassy, wild as he relished in the chaos going around him. Jerome couldn't help but sense that he had seen her face before... that was the witch of Gotham, wasn't it? She was not _too_ well known, though he knew enough that she had a bit of a dark reputation. Jerome's interest was piqued, though he tilted his head in question, wily grin never leaving his lips as he watched as she headed out of the bookstore with two other girls.

"I realize you might enjoy kicking the crap out of random people when given the chance, but we really should _get the fuck out!"_ Laura urged as she guided her sisters out of the shop and away from the scene. Laura and Holly were what Amelia called her sisters, though they were not of blood. At a young age, Amelia was orphaned and met the two where she was living. The three of them bonded over spell work, though when they were each in their preteen years, they'd been found out and were threatened to be separated if they didn't stop. Thus, they left the orphanage and took the streets. Growing acceptional in their craft, they were able to manifest enough money to eventually afford an apartment. Now that they were a little older, (Amelia being 20, Laura 22 and Holly 23) her sisters lived mostly with their boyfriends, leaving Amelia to roam the apartment on her own most of the time. The three of them would of course get together often to do some work. Amelia was by far the most talented of their coven. As she had dealt with a great amount of pain in her life, she took to her craft often as a way to cope, and in turn got quite good over the years. To the point of her spells becoming rather supernatural in nature. There were even times Amelia could sit back and watch one of her spells unfold on television, as often her targets would land themselves on the news due to their horrible slew of misfortune.

Soon after the three had reached their apartment, Laura had already taken off to her boyfriend, Xavier's home. Amelia did some meditating at her altar in the midst of the living area while Holly got dressed to go to her own boyfriend's home. Amelia was not fond of him, in fact just thinking of the situation she felt was going on between he and Holly made her want to spit venom. Amelia opened her eyes, gazing over her altar, alight with reikei candles and sparkling stone. Realizing she'd forgotten some of her healing stones in the room she and Holly shared, she made her way inside.

Holly gasped, as she was pulling her shirt on and was half naked. Amelia's brows furrowed a bit as she looked to her sister curiously. "Geez, don't scare me like that," Holly emitted, hurriedly yanking her blouse over her head of blonde hair. It was not fast enough to prevent Amelia from noticing something that made her jaw drop a bit. This wouldn't be the first time Amelia spotted a bruise upon her sister. Often times she was a sneaky little snake about it and covered them up with makeup. Though in that brief moment, Amelia had spotted deep bruises all along her ribs. Amelia stood in disbelief as Holly whizzed past her and towards the front door to leave. "I can't let you leave," Amelia interjected, wedging her way between Holly and the door.

"Why?" Holly asked, trying to act innocent.

" _I AM NOT AN IDIOT, HOLLY!"_ Amelia suddenly exploded, causing Holly to cower faintly from the door. It wasn't the only time she'd seen Amelia like this however. Anyone who knew the witch, knew that her temper was off the chart. "You really think I don't know what the hell is going on here?! Just how long are you going to keep acting like what he's doing to you is ' _no big deal'?!_ " Amelia shrieked. She was scared for her sister, scared she'd suffer the same fate she had years ago.

"L-look, I will figure it out on my own okay, I... have to go," Holly stuttered, looking conflicted for just a moment. As soon as she'd seen the chance to escape Amelia's protest, she had, leaving Amelia to stare wide-eyed at the shut door.

"I cannot believe this..." Amelia clutched her head, trying with all her strength not to go into a rampage. She needed to figure out what to do. For the longest time, she wanted to wring Marcus's neck, to watch him _suffer._ All because he'd brainwashed her poor sister. For a while, Amelia just tried not to think about it, for she knew if she killed him, Holly would _stupidly_ chide her for it. Now however, Amelia made her resolve. She'd go to Marcus's job at the warehouse and she'd find his address; since he'd made it a point not to have anyone but Holly know where he resided... likely, with reason. Amelia would _end_ him, before he could end Holly.

-That night, 3.A.M.-

Amelia took her car through the dead of night and to Marcus's job. She'd been sure to go armed with a gun and knife, as she was certain it may be a little difficult to sneak her way in since chances were, the workers there were there through the night. She'd made certain however, that Marcus was off for the night. Her silver car crept slowly up a parking lot a small ways behind the warehouse. A few random lights were on inside, though it seemed the lower level was pitch and inactive. Approaching the building, boots moved silently across the gravel as she prowled in search of some type of vent to crawl into. Amelia wasn't in the mood for a fight, so she'd try her best to get around any guards. Her sights were solely set upon that manipulative piece of garbage, _Marcus._ She blanched at even the thought of his name. Soon, Amelia located a duct large enough for to fit her relatively small frame through. Removing the cover on it was simple enough; it looked like a few rodents had chewed their way through part of it. Amelia squeezed her way in, then proceeded through the tight space. Taking a couple of turns, she eventually reached the other side and peered through the gaps in the vent. Green eyes scanned along slowly, around what looked to be a bit of an open space with some machinery and some offices off in one area. The whole of the space was dark and barren. Once she decided the coast was clear, she shoved the vent cover off. It rattled open and flopped to the cement floor with a _bang._ Eyes peered frantically around in hopes that didn't cause a stir. Once it was clear she was still safe, she made her way hastily towards the office space.

Meanwhile, in the upper levels of the same building, Jerome trekked along, whistling a random tune, a shot gun slung over his shoulder casually as he sought out his target. He circled a corner, were two guards chatted before starting at the sight of Jerome appearing randomly near them. "How the hell did you get in here?" The paler guard asked as he and his comrade pointed their guns at him. Jerome put a hand up slowly, though a grin was playing as his lips.

"Y'know... when a bunch'a bozos run this joint, it really ain't all that difficult," he said, before blasting them both out of the door the stood in front of. Whistling again, he continued on his way. "Oh where, oh where are you, _Marcus..."_

Downstairs, Amelia started at the sound of gunfire above her. She'd made her way into the office at this point and was sifting hurriedly through their employee files. A loud groan left her as she realized that they either had hired a filer who didn't do their job or that the position was simply nonexistent. The files were horribly unorganized, making her task take longer than it should. At the sound of more gunfire and some screaming, she huffed, a little vexed. Though she supposed that whatever the heck was going on up there was a distraction for whatever guards may be present.

Jerome meanwhile had cleaned out the whole of the upper floor, before making his way back downstairs, humming as he did so, entirely not giving a damn that'd he'd blown several people to smithereens. Turning one corner, back towards the offices, he'd nearly run into someone, someone he presumed was his target. " _Aha!"_ Jerome uttered, pointing his gun. A perplexed look crossed his face when he spotted the little witch from earlier, her green eyes momentarily wide. Just what was she doing snooping around here, he wondered. Jerome placed his gun back onto his shoulder when it looked like she was about to wail on him pretty badly, her doe-eyed expression morphing into something much more _hostile, violent_ and... to Jerome at least, vastly interesting. "I come in peace," he put his hands out, noting that the one before him had stuffed a folded piece of paper down her bra. Just as he was about to ask what it was, more guards paid them a visit, guns blazing. Before Jerome could so much as blink, Amelia was hauling him away and towards the other exit, firing her gun at the guards briefly to derail them.

The two made it out into the night, and soon Jerome was being hauled into her car. Amelia had not idea _why_ she was helping _Jerome Valeska_ and Jerome merely went along with it, seeming to find the whole ordeal amusing. Amelia skidded out of the parking lot, booking it down the street. "I don't exactly know what was going on in there, but there were too many damn guards. If we had stayed, we'd have been dead."

Jerome sniggered darkly. "Oh, _princess,_ I coulda handled 'em. But this seems like a bit of fun, where we going? On an adventure?" He turned to stare at her, in a bit of a creepy fashion, body turned awkwardly to face entirely in her direction as a wicked grin played at his lips. Amelia then parked in a very dark and empty parking lot when she felt they were far enough way. Taking a breath, she rolled down her window, lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Amelia was still preparing herself for the inevitable; killing Marcus... and potentially ruining her relationship with Holly, if she were found out.

"Eh, I don't know," Amelia responded after a moment, flicking her eyes to him, realizing Jerome had been staring at her... rather intently. Not in any way that said he'd _try_ anything. She supposed that's just how he was. It was a calculating, yet wild look of intrigue, if anything. "I'm a little busy at the moment, actually. Oh and Amelia is fine. If you call me princess again, I just may have to punch you in the throat," she threatened. Something in her piercing eyes also did tell Jerome that she was serious, and this made his lips twitch into another wily grin. The fact that this young woman showed no fear in his presence made his hazel eyes glint in intrigue.

"Tell me... _princess..._ What did you stuff in your bra back there? Somethin' _scandalous?"_ Jerome quipped, purposely ignoring her threat for the sole purpose of seeing if she was in fact serious in her threat. It was a test, of sorts. Amelia took another long, aggravated drag of her cigarette. A millisecond after she flicked it out of the window, she was moving swiftly, driving her fist into Jerome's throat, _hard._ Jerome emitted a slight croak, and twitched as he was punched. A surge of pain pooled where her fist landed. Amelia's eyes burned into his mercilessly, and then Jerome rasped out a wild cackle. _That_ surely had earned her a bit of his respect. Not very many dared to do such a thing to him, and the fact she had guts like that made him feel elated.

As he laughed hysterically after being punched, Amelia couldn't seem to help the laugh that bubbled out of her. "I've heard you were on odd guy, but I never would have guessed just how bizzare," Amelia aditmirred through her snickering. The two of them sat, laughing like a couple of loons for a moment. That's when Amelia realized something just may be brewing... Her laughing died away as she sighed, figuring she didn't care whether he knew what she was up to at this point. She just wanted to get it _over_ with. To feel that bastard's blood on her hands and hopefully, hopefully get away with it quietly "I'm after someone..." she sent on, rolling her eyes. "He's a manipulative, abusive piece of shit and he's hurting a friend of mine. And I'm going to put a stop to it, and end his life," she said, eyes peering out the window and into the cruel, dark streets of Gotham. "It's just rough cause she's my sister and she'd totally brain washed by him... so as much as I wouldn't mind ripping his throat out, it's a bit tricky..." Why she was telling all this to a psychopath, Amelia could not say. She supposed, she was no better. And, Jerome didn't make her uncomfortable. Being around his oddness, there in the middle of a pitch-black parking lot, was weirdly enjoyable. And perhaps, that should scare her a bit. But, she didn't care.

"Oooh," Jerome rubbed his hands together. "I see I'm not the only one here who's a _killer,_ hmm?" Jerome tilted his head a little, peering at her in vague interest. His head quirked then, as he realized something. "Manipulative and abusive you say? Y'know... I went into that warehouse seeking a man as well. Turns out he wasn't working that day, woops," he shrugged a little. "And the words you use to describe this fellow seemed awfully fitting. Is he a _Marcus,_ perhaps?" Amelia flicked her eyes to Jerome the moment that name was spoken. Jerome's smile widened, his expression darkening. Amelia didn't have to answer for him to know they were indeed after the same guy. And in this situation, she was in a bit of a pickle, whilst he had nothing to lose...

"Yeah," Amelia affirmed, pulling the form she'd taken from it's place in her bra. "I snuck into that dump to find his address." Jerome snatched it, peering over the file. It held a photo, some personal details on Marcus Fischer, and bingo... an address.

"Sneaky, sneaky," Jerome jested, amazed at his luck. This night was sure to be a wicked one, indeed. "Looks like you were right on the money, my friend... Why don't we make a deal...?"


	3. Something Witchy This Way Comes

Making a deal with a psychopath could be risky. Most people would not have even considered such a thing. Amelia however, was not most people. And at the moment, her situation was indeed tricky. Jerome being the one to take care of that scum, Marcus, for her seemed like a perfect plan. There was still a slim chance she may be found out... but it was less risky than doing it herself. After all, she was not well equipped with a disguise and it would have been quite difficult to pull off herself, with Holly around. "Alright," she agreed after a moment, green eyes flicking to Jerome. "But you have to promise me something." Jerome nodded a little after a second, pursing his lips a bit as he considered. "Make sure Holly is out of there before you go in for the kill." The least Amelia could do, was spare her sister having to witness such a thing. Holly wasn't an angel, but she also was not the type to be able to handle that sort of thing very well.

"Make certain Holly is gone," he repeated, giving a firm bob of his head, and then a little shrug. "Yeah, sure, okay. As long as I get to have some fun with mister Marcus, I'm satisfied," Jerome affirmed, a grin curling his lips. Amelia gazed at him a moment, eyes narrowing just the faintest bit, speculating. "I promise," Jerome held his hands out to accent his sincerity. Amelia was a bit taken aback by that, in truth. Jerome Valeska was... unpredictable, relentless... But something told her he could be trusted with at least that, and her intuition rarely failed her. Why he was actually taking her into account, she really couldn't say. Jerome, however, needed to know just what Amelia was capable of. He had heard the rumors of curses going around at one point, seen the unfortunate souls who had made their way onto T.V. due to their horrendous accidents, one after the next. If she was capable of such chaos and destruction, Jerome needed to have Amelia on his good side... obeying that tiny request was something he could do.

Soon, Amelia was pulling out of the pitch dark parking lot, making her way back onto the street, headed towards their destination. Amelia was not the type to beat around the bush usually, and so she figured now was the time. "Ah, no time wasted I see," Jerome mused, with a little snicker as they drove through the night. Anticipation welled inside of Amelia's veins, but more than anything, she was jubilant this had worked so well. Jerome, meanwhile, remained in his spot turned towards her as he observed every micro-expression that crossed her features. Amelia's gaze seemed intent, with a fire behind it... and Jerome could then see it; she may not be as _much_ a relentless killer as he, but he could see that she had fire within her. And that when she did kill, it was remorseless. A grin played at his lips over this as he finally glanced ahead, seeing that they were now pulling up a block, a small distance from a set of dark green townhomes all scrunched together.

"Our target is a bit further up this block," Amelia stated, looking over to Jerome, not seeming bothered by the fact he had just been staring at her for a few long moments. Her mind was, after all, preoccupied with the situation at hand. Something in her green eyes was alight, and Jerome knew she wished she could be killing Marcus herself. "I'll drop you off here." Jerome was already exiting, turning to her briefly as he held the door open. "And remember," Amelia inclined to him a bit, "if Holly isn't back at our apartment soon, I will personally come find you and drive my fist into your skull." Jerome let out a light cackle at her threat. Somehow, he found her violent nature to be quite charming.

"I don't doubt that, my little witch," Jerome mused, recalling when she'd punched him earlier. "Everything will go _just_ as planned," he gave a dark smirk as he leaned upon the car door, winked at her, and then was making his way down the street, hands in his pockets. Amelia blinked a moment, and then smirked a little as well. _'He's an odd guy, alright...'_ Amelia pulled away from where she had parked, making her way back to her apartment.

Jerome was then making his way into the building at this point, with the appropriate room number in his mind; 359B. Making his way up a flight of stairs, he hummed a little tune and then located the right door, labeled with its number in silver, glinting in the muted hallway lights. Taking a long pin from one of his pockets, he whistled quietly as he picked open the lock and flung the door open. Marcus and Holly, were both frantically moving from their place in front of the T.V. "Jerome?" Marcus asked when he saw who'd barged in, his heavy brows furrowing a bit over icy blue eyes, as if he hadn't expected to see him there. Holly flicked a baffled look from Jerome and to Marcus.

"You know him?" She inquired, pitch already rising in alarm. The devious look upon Jerome's features was already darkening the aura around them. Jerome tilted his head, looking at Holly.

"It's a wonder you're so surprised by that fact. Your little boy-toy here has made a dire, _dire_ mistake... or shall we say _many_ dire mistakes..." he ventured close, a knife flipping out from the sleeve of his coat and into his palm. Holly was palpitating as Marcus attempted to shield her. This caused a low, rolling, almost mocking laugh to emit from Jerome's lips. "Let's not pretend to play the hero now, old friend," Jerome was dangerously close to the two now, close enough to feel their panicked breath. Jerome looked momentarily to Holly, his eyes darkened and riddled with heinous intent. Gently, he motioned his head to the door. "Do yourself a favor," he told to Holly, his grin momentarily dropping, replaced by a more grim and menacing look. "Get out of here. You don't want to see the mess I'm about to make of your little boyfriend, do you?" His voice was a soft growl now as he urged the shuddering young woman to leave. After a short moment of staring at Jerome in utter dread, tears fighting their way into her eyes, she moved past Jerome with a gasp and was shooting out of the door. Marcus then turned his gaze to Jerome, who held his blade firmly against his neck in next moment. Marcus was trying to appear unphased by this, but Jerome knew that deep down, Marcus was aware he was doomed.

"What do you want?" Marcus eventually spat, through gritted teeth. Jerome laughed in his face the moment he spoke.

" _Bahaha!_ What do I want? _You_ ," Jerome dug his blade into the flesh of Marcus's neck, "should know _damn_ well what I want. I want to paint this room in your blood," he offered, with a quirk of his head, and a fiendish grin. "You've screwed up, and you know it. Not only have you screwed _me_ over plenty, but you're also a snake who likes tormenting poor, innocent girls like little Holly."

"Who the hell told you that? What do you even care, when you're a freaking killer?" Marcus spat, quaking in rage, wincing when the blade fought its way deeper into his skin.

" _Ah!_ So you admit it then. Someone was bound to find out sooner or later," Jerome grabbed him now, not really caring about his protest, hauling him into a chair after a brief wrestle and then wrapping him up with a long extension cord sprawled onto the ground near them. "Oooh, putting up a bit of a fight, are we? Still itching to pull some of your tricks, are you?" Jerome asked, a grin curling at his lips as he plunged his dagger into Marcus's thigh. He'd let out a wail, and then struggled against the wire binding him, baring his teeth in a fit of anger. "Aww, don't worry, Marc, we're only just getting started," Jerome purred, yanking his knife from the other man's leg and then returning it to his throat. "I'll make you suffer just as you've made your pet suffer. You're in for a _quite_ a night."

 _-Meanwhile-_

Amelia had made it home, wrapped herself in a soft, dark robe and sat outside on the balcony for a cigarette and some wine. Soon enough, she heard the front door open, and then close. Sobbing uncontrollably, Holly went over to Amelia, who stood up and looked to her sister, eyebrows arching in concern. "What's happened?" Amelia questioned. Of course, she knew exactly what was happening. Seeing her sister cry never failed to make her hurt as well, but deep inside her heart was cold and bitter. Amelia did not regret the choice she made.

"That- that _freak_ Jerome broke into Marcus's apartment," Holly explained in muffle, hand clasped over her mouth to try and hold back her sobs. She was shaking uncontrollably, and Amelia pulled her into a hug. "He was going to kill him," she managed, though her voice and body were quaking with emotion. "I couldn't even call the police, my phone service ran out and I hadn't even noticed," she pulled from the hug now, staring at Amelia with owlish, makeup-smeared, hazel eyes. "I ran all the way here, it's probably too late by now..." Amelia listened, and wondered when she said that. If Holly truly was so ga-ga over that sicko, she'd still have tried the police, wouldn't she? Something told Amelia though that deep down, Holly knew she had to just let go.

"I'm... speechless," Amelia emitted, trying to play things off. Holly shook her head, and then stated that she needed a moment alone before venturing back inside. Amelia watched her form disappear into the bedroom, her green eyes ice-cold. " _Good riddance_ ," the black-haired witch whispered through gritted teeth.

Later that night, Holly had eventually fallen asleep, while Amelia remained awake, meditating, still trying to pull herself together. She needed to try and let go of her anxiety about her situation. A knock at her door caught her off guard entirely, considering it was nearly 3 in the morning. Standing, she fetched a knife and the peaked through the spy hole. It was a delivery man... with a bundle of lovely black roses in his hands. Amelia blinked, confused. Pulling the door open, she held the knife behind her back, for now. "Look guy, if this is some kind of joke-"

"I have a delivery for Amelia," the stout, though young delivery man with a bundle of curls for hair stated hastily, before Amelia could get too pissed off. It seemed like this wasn't the only time he'd been through this sort of thing. Amelia furrowed her brows, though took the roses and swung the door shut without saying much else. Gazing over them, she looked at the card inside once she felt it was safe and read the words scrawled onto it. _'I'm curious about your capabilities. Let's meet again soon, little witch.'_ Amelia stared at that a moment, entirely perplexed. Something inside of her looked forward to meeting with the psychopath again, however, as terrible as that may have been. Their little night had been an interesting one to say the least. And the fact that he sent flowers? "You are something else, Valeska," Amelia murmured silently to herself, though set the flowers aside and pocketed the card. She shook her head, though a smile tugged at her lips at the fact Jerome had oddly been able to decipher her taste. The roses were _stunning_. This also told her that Jerome wasn't just nonsense and blantant chaos; the young man could clearly be quite observant. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind using her spell work to sow some potential chaos. It had been a while since she had...

 _ _-The following afternoon-__

Crowds of people exited the concert venue as the act that was on had finished. Amelia was just about finished with her shift there and was sweeping the floors up a bit. Glancing up, she caught sight of a guy around her age wearing Jerome's logo on his shirt. "Hey," Amelia called, drawing near. "Tell me where Jerome has been hiding out these days," She said, in a hushed voice of course. The guy scowled a little.

"And why should I tell you?"

Amelia rolled her eyes, digging the card Jerome had written her from her pocket. "He wants to meet personally," she sent on, looking impatient.

The other surveyed the card, before peering at her curiously. "Huh, I don't think our man Jerome has ever wanted to meet with anyone personally... wait a second, you're the rumored 'witch of Gotham', aren't you?" He shifted his weight, looking to her in interest now. She did after all look a lot like how people had described said witch. "The one who pulled all those wicked curses on those random people?" He seemed intrigued now.

"Well, not random people per-say, just people who got on my bad side," Amelia admitted, smirking a little. "So, why don't you show me the way or I might just place a curse on your ass next?" She'd half-jested, a sportive smirk playing at her red lips. To which, he had obliged, and soon she was following whom she now knew to be 'Rudy' down and out a small ways from Gotham, edging into the back forests.

After turning and going down a short, winding path, Amelia came to find what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. There was a parking garage off on one side, while the main section was a two story building with several windows; most of them broken. Sure enough, a few of Jerome's followers were dotted in front of the garage, several others inside. They looked over, eyeing Amelia's car wearily, not recognizing it. As Rudy exited his own vehicle, she did the same.

"Here we are," Rudy announced. "He leaves at random times usually, but last I checked, he'd been getting things in order around here," he explained as the two of them walked up to the building. It was shabby, but Amelia supposed given Jerome's reputation, he had to make do. "Oh, and if you don't mind, I'll need to take a look in the bag," he'd indicated Amelia's large purse she brought along as they paused in front of the larger building. Amelia scoffed, though opened her bag up for him to look. He'd have found some random 'witchy' supplies; candles, stones, and namely a large orb wrapped in black silk. Rudy smirked at Amelia. "You're the real deal, huh?" He seemed skeptical, though, as he led her inside.

"You may soon find out," Amelia sent on. The building they entered had a large open area, for the most part. Off to the left were some broken down machines, and to the right a line of doors with dingy glass walls. There was a stage as well in the midst of the area, with a poster of Jerome's logo in back of it, and a stairwell to the second story not far from that. Inside of one of the glass, divided offices, she could see Jerome tapping his chin, looking over a splay of files.

"There you go," Rudy motioned to Jerome. "If he's expecting you as you say, he shouldn't freak out if you just walk on in," he sent on with a shrug, scratched his nose, and then was sauntering back outside. Amelia headed over and Jerome had turned and caught sight of her before she'd gotten to his door through the glass, and went outside to greet her.

"I see you got my message," he stated, hands in his pockets and his expression mostly level, which was... odd. "And managed to find you're way here," he quirked a brow, seeming like he hadn't expected her to just stroll on by. Jerome wasn't bothered by this fact, just a little surprised.

"Yup, I did. You said you wanted to see what I could do," she lifted her bag a little. "Well, let's hop to it."

"Always quick to cut to the chase," Jerome cackled softly, the more wily expression Amelia was used to returning. "Alrighty then, entrar," he led her into his 'office' space, and they both took a seat. Jerome peered over curiously as she'd reached into her bag and pulled forth something spherical, covered in a silk cloth. Placing it in the middle of the table as Jerome moved his things, she revealed a crystal ball. Jerome flicked his gaze from the orb, and to Amelia a few times over.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking..." Amelia drawled, rolling her eyes. "But I have had tremendous success with this thing. I'll need a bit of silence now," she closed her eyes, and focused. Jerome merely leaned against his knee, a finger at his lips as he speculated. Though, he listened and shut up, for now. "I call upon my guides," Amelia said aloud, eyes still shut. Jerome blinked, furrowing his brows a bit. As she spoke, a soft haze encircled her. Jerome rubbed his eyes, assuming his vision was going wonky. "Please, I ask a favor," Amelia motioned her hands over the ball now, which had begun to glow faintly. "If there is a soul how may have ill intent towards my friend, Jerome, show them to me," she spoke clearly, eyes slowly opening. Jerome watched in disbelief as a dark haze settled around the orb. Leaning to look, he watched as the orb began to swirl with some colors, and then an image came forth. A couple of his followers were shown in the orb, whispering amongst themselves. It came to Jerome's attention that the two were planning on how they were going to attempt to kill him, and overthrow him. Jerome's gaze rose to Amelia then, who glanced at him with intense eyes.

"Looks like you've got a couple of snakes under a guise here..." Amelia pointed out.

"Well, that just won't do, will it?" Jerome placed his hands on his hips as he stood, and paced a moment. Something was brewing within him; rage, namely. Just who did those two think they were? Pretending to be loyal, only to be found out to be _traitors?_ Jerome paced for another moment, humming a bit. There was something devilish in his eyes however. He leaned closely to Amelia suddenly, hands rested upon his desk. All he could think in that moment was that what could have happened if he hadn't found that out. Without _her_ assistance, he'd have ended up in quite the pickle. "I don't know how exactly you made _that_ happen," he pointed to the orb a moment, then rested his gaze on hers. Amelia stared back, a devilish smirk of her own playing at her lips. "But I'll be needing to take those two out, pronto. You in?"

"No doubt," Amelia affirmed. "As a matter of fact, while I have their images with me," she shifted away, taking some candles out, drawing a swift pentagram with some herbs she'd brought in a little mesh baggy. After a brief moment, she had finished whatever she had done. Jerome blinked in mild confusion. "A curse," Amelia clarified, standing and stashing a gun and knife into her jacket pockets. "It'll delay anything they might be plotting. Now, let's go find them," Amelia tossed Jerome her keys then, and hooked her arm with his as they strolled outside. Jerome howled out a cackle, alerting the others of his exit as they entered the car to go seek out the two traitors. If all of this was true, and especially if the little witch at his side proved her loyalty, a partnership was surely on the horizon.


	4. A Deadly Duo

Revving Amelia's car to a start, Jerome skidded out of the parking lot of his quarters, made his way down the gravel path and onto the road. "Where did it look like they might be?" Amelia questioned, green eyes flicking to Jerome.

Red eyebrows furrowed a bit as he made his way now into the city, taking a couple of turns. "I have no idea," Jerome admitted, in a dry chuckle. Something about that laugh however seemed entirely wrathful. " _But,_ there are usually only a couple places those two; Kip and Aaron," he clarified, with a nonchalant wave of his hand, "seem to go. Generally they are seen over at Aaron's place, that'll be my best guess... in hopes they ain't too bright," he smirked a little, turning his eyes to Amelia momentarily.

Soon they reached a dingy looking, blue and white little house. There was another car parked nearby. "Look," Amelia motioned towards the vehicle, pointing out that their targets were sitting inside, discussing something. "Guess they aren't too bright after all," Amelia's red lips spread into a smirk of her own. "Could also be the curse causing things not to work too much in their favor, too." In that moment however, the other car was revving up and taking off. Jerome booked it after them, trailing them all the way back into city. Jerome cackled loudly as he forced his way past a few cars, earning several agitated blares from their horns.

"What's the rush, Kip?!" Jerome shrieked out of his window, cackling again as he slammed into their car. Jerome sped along, ungracefully, as Amelia steadied herself with one hand on top of the car. An elated grin seemed to be stuck on her face as adrenaline coursed through her.

"Yeah, we just wanna chat for a moment!" Amelia shouted out of her own window, threatening them. Jerome flung the car after them, turning into a random alleyway that consequently led to a dead end. As the others attempted to turn around and zip past Jerome and Amelia, their car engine abruptly exploded, their car halting and rising in flames. As the targets scampered out of their car, Jerome and Amelia stalked after them, past the flaming car, each with a blade in their hand; Amelia's more so resembling a short katana. Jerome edged Kip against the wall whilst Amelia took Aaron; she shoved him against the brick wall, blade against his neck while Jerome stood parallel to her.

"So," Jerome sent on in a growl, "d'ya mind telling us where you were headed in such a hurry?"

Amelia groaned, and rolled her green eyes. Jerome was so the type to play games and beat around the bush. When she saw that they weren't talking, she leaned closely to Aaron's face. "We know that you're plotting against Jerome," she said, blatantly. "So you might as well just come clean," she tilted her head, voice softer now, though still taunting.

"Wh-what are you even talking about?" Kip asked frantically after a moment, trying to act innocent, his dark eyes flicking to his friend.

"Now is not the time to _lying,"_ Amelia hissed, plunging a decent portion of her blade into the area between his neck and shoulder. Aaron wailed, as Amelia fumed, her teeth clenching as she said, "If there's anything I _hate,_ it's a liar," she twisted her blade, eliciting another howl from Aaron. An almost euphoric grin tugged at Jerome's lips as he witnessed just how violent Amelia could be. It seemed, he was right about his hunch that she had quite a bit of darkness within her. And was indeed a bit curious about where it all came from... more than anything it filled him with glee. Oh, if she truly did help him eliminate these two, she would certainly be gaining a spot next to him and before his growing legion.

As soon as Aaron saw the opportunity however, he moved, whacking Amelia in the face, causing her to tumble backward. She'd caught herself quickly however, tackling Aaron onto the ground now and pinning him. " _Kip!"_ Amelia shrieked, eyes wild and never leaving Aaron, blade held steady above him. "I suggest you come clean to Jerome _now_ , or else I am very prepared to tear your little buddy's heart out!"

Jerome grinned at Kip, who struggling against him hopelessly, darkness dancing in his hazel eyes. "You should listen to her, you know... You won't be getting very far, after all," he tilted his head to the flaming car. " _That_ incident was just the beginning of your curse. Even if you do escape, your little plan is sure to fail," Jerome explained, tone mildly mocking.

"A curse?" Kip asked, struggling to understand, looking hopeless after a moment. One way or another... it seemed there truly was no defeating Jerome. And now with this inky-haired weapon of his at his side, it seemed Kip and Aaron were destined to fail. Kip grunted, his wacky brown hair falling into his face as he made one final attempt to struggle out of Jerome's grasp.

"So persistent," Jerome _tsk_ ed, pulling forth an electronic, spinning hand blade of sorts, plunging it into Kip's stomach. "It is more fun when worms like you struggle a little, though."

Aaron watched in horror as his friend finally gave up. " _Gahh! Fine, fine...!"_ Kip protested, urging Jerome to stop, eyes squeezed shut and face contorting as his stomach was torn into. A soft, dark chuckle rolled from Jerome as he watched Kip in agony, relishing each second of causing him pain. "We were... plotting against you, yes. We were just about go in, when you..." a pant, a pained groan, "least expected it." Kip keeled over a bit as Jerome at last let him go, though had not stepped away. "I... have no idea how the hell you found out," Kip spoke each word through gasps.

Jerome gazed at him, hazel eyes wide and a wild laugh emitting from him. Amelia's plan had worked _flawlessly_. Now, all that was left to do was to dispose of the two before them. "Oh, it would be too hard to explain, and what's the point when you're about to die?" Jerome chuckled. "Ah, let's just say me and my partner here have our ways..." he twirled his blade a moment, suddenly plunging it into Kip's chest. Aaron attempted to shout in protest, though Amelia broke his nose and shut him up quickly. "Let's just say... it's a method that goes beyond you are I," Jerome yanked the blade out mercilessly, and then plunged it again, this time into Kip's neck, thick blood splaying over them both. "And for that, my friend... Amelia and I are _unstoppable,"_ he was whispering his last words, savoring that fact and then emitted a laugh, before going in for the final blow.

Amelia had taken it upon herself to violently stab Aaron multiple times, her breathing heavy and ragged as she at last dropped her blade. The relief that came from killing was something she hadn't felt in so long. Now that she could, it felt nearly therapeutic. She sat for a moment, closed her eyes, and relished in the euphoric feeling that washed over... the satisfaction that came with ending someone's life. Someone who _deserved_ it. Perhaps, her sisters were right to stay away... just look at what Amelia was becoming. For just a moment, a ping of guilt hit her. But she'd buried it just as swiftly as it had surfaced. Jerome placed his blade away, licked his lips and nodded a little as he surveyed the dead man near him. Hazel eyes turned over to Amelia then, noticing she was still sitting upon Aaron's own dead weight.

"You have proven yourself very much worthy..." Jerome sent on as he approached her slowly. Amelia stood, and soon the two of them were headed off. It seemed, anyone who may have passed the ally hadn't batted an eye. If the police were coming however, they would be (as they often were) too late.

 _-That night-_

Back at Jerome's quarters, news had spread about what had happened earlier with the two traitors. Jerome had directed anyone still there inside the main building for an announcement he had in store. Amelia was instructed to wait in the back of the stage, behind the curtain with his logo upon it. She stood waiting, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, not really one to enjoy waiting in the first place. Jerome stepped up onstage, earning an applause from the crowd.

Jerome tapped his microphone, wincing and snickering as an ear-splitting ring of feedback buzzed through. Once it subsided, he spoke into it. "As you all are aware; two snakes have been disposed of. Some of you are probably confused about this. Let me explain a bit; unbeknownst to myself or any of you, these two were under a guise as some of my 'loyal' followers... how I came to find out about their intention will blow your mind a bit," he snickered a little. "The Witch of Gotham... a.k.a. Hex Girl... a.k.a. Amelia Stone. Some of you may have heard of those rumors of curses that had gone around some months back after those saps on T.V. kept getting into some interestingly horrendous situations." A few cult members laughed and roused, indicating they did indeed recall those particular news stories. "Some of you may have speculated about the notion of curses... I was one of those people," he motioned his hands to himself, grinning a wide, devious grin. " _But!_ I can assure you, from a firsthand witness, Amelia is the real deal, folks. _She_ is the one who brought it to my attention that this was even going on. Embarrassing to admit but hey, sometimes even legends can be dooped, I suppose," Amelia rolled her eyes, though laughed from her place behind the curtain. "For that reason," he leaned toward the curtain a bit, " _cue,"_ and then back to the crowd as Amelia noted her cue and walked out onstage. "I would like to formally announce Hex Girl as my right hand," he motioned to Amelia, who couldn't help her big grin as the crowd applauded her. Jerome placed an arm around her shoulder, grinning out at the crowd a bit tauntingly. "If you mess with her, you mess with _me._ Oh, and you'll likely get cursed too," he sent on with a shrug, earning rolling laughter from the crowd and then a few cheers and whistles.

Amelia's arm had subconsciously coiled around Jerome's waist as he stood with her. Standing up in front of that many people actually made her a bit nervous somehow, though the attention was also pleasant. With curiosity, Jerome silently noted the way Amelia's fingers rubbing around his hip nervously, over his clothing. He hadn't said much about it, merely mentally noted it and lingered on the odd feeling it had elicited in him.

Soon, a large bonfire was going outside the main building. People mingled, whooped, shouted, drank, broke things and danced in celebration. Jerome had gone off on his own in his office for a bit whilst Amelia ventured outside. That atmosphere was so lively, and couldn't help but make her grin. Since her sisters weren't in touch lately, it felt _good_ to have a place to call a second home...

"Hex Girl!"

"Hey, hey, how's it goin' ol' witchy one!"

People greeted her as she came through. It was strange almost, how she'd gained the respect of all of these people when she was simply acting on a whim. Deep down, Amelia knew she was drawn to Jerome... he was thrilling, hilarious... he was... a good _friend._ Amelia ventured around, over towards the garage where no one really was, to think a bit. Not too long after she'd chosen to hang out there for a bit, Jerome came forward after joking around with some of the others. "I see you," Jerome jested. "Over here all by your lonesome. I thought you'd be the type to y'know... party it up a bit," he tilted his head towards where the bonfire was.

"I do, sometimes," Amelia admitted, lighting a cigarette. Jerome held a beer bottle in his hand, taking a quick swig. "Aren't you a little too young to be drinking?" Amelia jested, sticking her tongue out a little.

"Pff, _c'mon_ , you're talking to crazed killer who rarely follows the rules. Are you _'of age'_ anyway?" Jerome enunciated the 'of age' part a bit, in a mocking tone, as if mocking rules themselves. In truth, he was curious about her age to a degree; she looked perhaps a tad older than himself. Jerome admitted that he preferred older women, and that Amelia certainly was gorgeous. She was his _partner in crime_ however... and he knew she'd likely try and kill him if he even tried to flirt.

"Almost," Amelia said. "I'm 20. But, that doesn't stop me from having the occasional drink."

"I could get you one?" Jerome offered, lifting his bottle, and his eyebrows.

"Nahhh," Amelia scrunched up her face a little, in mild disgust. "I'm not a beer gal. I like wine, though," she sent on. Jerome nodded a bit, glancing back toward the bonfire and the small crowd of bumbling followers. There was a moment of silence then, and Amelia settled with taking a couple drags of her cigarette. Jerome was an eccentric guy; it was bizarre making small talk with him. Being around him enough though, there were times he sort of dropped his usual persona; times he could hold an actual serious conversation. To a degree, at least. Amelia was afraid of getting too close to him, afraid of the pull he had on her. But now that they had a chance, she wanted to know more. "I've been meaning to ask," Amelia said, Jerome glancing over curiously, twirling a blade between his fingers. She gazed at him, hesitated.

"Well, what is it?" Jerome urged, acting impatient, though was joking.

"There's... a reason I've ended up the way I am; why I don't mind seeing people die. Relishing it, even," she began. Jerome blinked, interest piqued as he took a seat close to her; close enough to bump legs. "I... don't tell many about this but, I've had a bad past. In a nutshell, have been orphaned all my life, met my 'sisters' and bonded over spell crafting... eventually we got kicked out for it and had to make do with being on the streets for some time. The thing that really made me lose it though, the thing that made me not give a single damn if I killed anyone who had it coming... was my ex." The words were difficult to even get out. But she wanted to get it out. Perhaps, if she did, Jerome would be willing to explain how much pain led him to where he was now. Hesitation filled the air again.

"Well, what did the bastard do?" Jerome prodded. The ginger was not used to seeing Amelia this _open…_ Though he admitted he was curious about her.

Amelia sighed heavily. It was _always_ so hard to bring up... "He raped me." Another moment of quiet, minus the hoots and laughing in the small distance.

Something flashed in Jerome's eyes and Amelia caught sight of that fire. The jestful, wily little grin was gone entirely now, the most serious look Amelia had seen now lain on his features. "And... what did you do about it?" He finally asked, when his rage had subsided enough. Jerome knew Amelia could take care of herself. _That_ however sent his blood boiling. The thought of someone, _anyone_ taking advantage of Amelia like that burned him up inside. And he had no idea why. Why he had a single care for even her, Jerome was not certain of at this point. He gave a damn about nobody, not even himself, really…

"I killed him, of course. It was... the best feeling ever. Hurting someone who had hurt me like that; taking away _everything._ His _life_ , at that. That's why I had no issue killing Aaron. He was betraying you, and so I had no issue with leaving him to rot."

"...But, why me?" Jerome asked suddenly. "Sure, we made a deal at one point... I wanted to see what else you could do... but surely I, mister _crazy ginger killer_ , don't deserve to be helped? Having you on my side, hell, I _could_ very well just be using you," Jerome smirked an evil little smirk. Amelia stared at him, observed him. And she knew that couldn't be true... or at least she hoped.

"That crossed my mind, to be fair. But, to answer your question... there's just something about you," Amelia sent on, blinking, astonished she was suddenly spilling her guts out. Whatever romantic pull she felt towards the ginger-headed maniac near her, she was pushing so, _so_ far away. Jerome furrowed his brows in interest. Something about _him?_ Just what was Amelia speaking of? "What I mean is that, I feel like we have that in common. I can see, behind all the... maniac stuff, I can see that you've suffered as well." Amelia said, looking at his eyes.

A laugh hooted from Jerome briefly. Amelia whacked him on the arm. "C'mon, Jerome, you can't hide it from a witch... what happened to you?"

The laughing died away, replaced by a grim look as Jerome recalled his past. He scoffed somewhat, playing off his carefully buried pain. "I killed my whore of a mother months ago. As for old pops; I'd been under the impression he was dead until _Jimbo Gordon,"_ even just the name seemed to vex the ginger, "sent me off to Arkham," he shrugged as if it were nothing.

Amelia looked to him, realizing how close he was; so close that she could see his soft freckles, could see that pain buried carefully within, behind that wily look that often was in his eyes. It was interesting. It also made her quite a nervous wreck. Though she hid it decently. Jerome had his own steel wall in place; just as she had hers. And yet there there were, spilling their guts out to each other… despite being 'mere partners in crime'. "What did she do to you?" Amelia asked, in a whisper, observing him.

"Oh, she beat the crap out of me. She'd bang any clown that crossed her path, always... _pestered_ me. It all just got to be too _much,_ y'know? That and with how my pathetic twin brother used to always frame me, making it seem like I was hurting him when the fact was, he was a lying sack of shit. Always in need of _attention,"_ he said in a mock-baby tone, taking a long chug of his beer and then tossing the bottle carelessly off to the side. "Oh, and there was my uncle too, his favorite way of punishing me was to put my hands in a big _boiling_ pot of soup," he nodded, trying to make a joke of it, though Amelia could still tell it pained him; made him extremely angry. Violently so. "I learned a long time ago that I couldn't trust anyone. That even your own 'family' wouldn't mind beating you to a pulp and otherwise making you look and feel like utter shit." Eyes turned to Amelia again, and then his trademark grim resurfaced as he motioned to himself theatrically. "And now, here we are. I feel like I've made do just fine. Who needs _family,_ or _parents,_ all that mumbo-jumbo. Surely not us, hmm?" He nudged Amelia, who merely nodded, still absorbing all of that.

"Well, that is admirable," Amelia admitted, not looking at him. Jerome laughed.

"You are quite literally one of the only people that would say that. Y'know… minus my crew over there."

"The way I see it is, okay, most people try to _rationalize_ painful stuff, try and avoid taking drastic measures to prove their point in fear of getting in trouble, or whatever. But people like us, we won't hesitate to kill those who've hurt us. Maybe some people see that as… deviant and 'crazy' but, killing is a part of life, innit?" She shrugged, snickering a little. "Animals kill each other all the time." The two of them laughed then, drawing some attention from the others over by the fire.

"You do have a point, m'dear…" Jerome smirked darkly. Something was welling in Amelia's chest then; some happiness she hadn't felt in a little while now. Her laughing faded off as she stood. She couldn't get too close. _Wouldn't._

"Well, it's been something, Valeska," she sent on, indicating she'd better go home now. Jerome stood too, nodding a bit.

"It has indeed. I have _plenty_ more in store as well. I'll be letting you in on something big soon, so swing on by as soon as you can, _compadre,"_ Jerome said, smiling a smile that made Amelia blink in surprise. A genuine smile… no maniacal undertones what-so-ever.

"Er… yeah," Amelia stuttered, "I'll be around." And then, she was venturing off to her car, waving bye to the others, and taking off down the gravel path. Jerome watched until she was out of sight, silver car disappearing into darkness, his hands in his pockets as he lingered on what had just occurred. Jerome was attracted to Amelia, that much he did know… and lust was something he was familiar with. Though, this seemed to go beyond just that. Whatever it was confused him far, far more.


	5. The Grand Scheme

_Tap, tap, tap._ An electric shrill of feedback rang through the warehouse, reverberating abruptly against the walls. Lips leaned forth to speak into it, teeth flashing as a menacing—though ecstatic—grin curled upon them. "Good afternoon," Jerome began as he peered out into the crowd of his punked-out followers. "Today I have an _especially_ important message for you all. It's a day we've been preparing for, for a little while now. I'll be sending most of you out into our designated area, as _hefty_ shipment will be arriving soon. _The carnival is coming to town, folks!"_ He announced, hazel eyes wide and dancing with mischief. The crowd erupted in excitement. "No time to waste!" Jerome sent on urgently, earning the attention of his devoted fans with ease. "Everyone, it's time to head out, so _hop to it!"_ he demanded, with a pleased though soft snarl as the crowd ventured out of the large doors and out to fetch their cars or walk over to where the carnival would be held. "Now... to find the little witch..."

Amelia had been meditating, unconsciously rocking back and forth as she did. Green, dark rimmed eyes opened as she peered at her altar which flickered with light from candles and little fairy string lights she enjoyed using for decoration. Things had taken a bit of a turn recently; it had only been a few days since she made her mark as Jerome Valeska's equal. It was an interesting thing, to be back in touch with her dark side. Rather, it was always present... though Valeska had a way of bringing it out of her even _more._ Anxiety had overtaken her these past few days, because of her involvement... though it wouldn't stop her. Jerome had helped her, and so she would help him. The thing that scared her most, were these niggling feelings surfacing towards the ginger. They were feelings she was so _sure_ she would never be able to feel again. And yet there she was that night back at his hideaway, talking alone with him... actually _enjoying_ it. The idea made her scoff exaggeratedly. There was no way she would give in. "Never. _Never again,"_ she whispered to herself, through clenched teeth and a hiss.

Another thing was her sisters. She still had not heard from them, and it sent her raging. It wasn't as if those two were angels. Perhaps they had never gone so far as to assist a maniac like Jerome, though they were mischievious and unforgiving, given the correct circumstances. They _needed_ each other, and Amelia was the most powerful of their coven. She knew that in time, they would return. A hasty rap at her door startled her then to her feet.

Smoothing her casual black dress, Amelia shifted to look through the looking hole in her door. There waiting, was Jerome. The door was slid open without much hesitation, as Amelia was fully aware this likely had to do with the grand scheme Jerome had planned to pin Bruce Wayne. "Ah, I was hoping to find you here," Jerome greeted, sliding easily past her and into her apartment, eyes glancing about. "So this is where the little witch resides, hmm?" he quipped in a sing-song voice. "Seems fitting," hazel eyes fixed on her altar as he nodded and pouted his lip a bit, with a tilt of his head. Then, he flashed her that wily grin she was becoming all too familiar with. "So, let's cut to the chase. Today is the day, I've got most of my crew out in the back lands to help with getting the shipments of rides and carnival shenanigans ready. There's a trusty duo, Kaiser and Rick, who will be powering down the city tonight so that we can easily reap some victims into the games," he explained. "I'll be taking it into my own hands to kidnap the little Wayne brat," Jerome continued, uttering the name in a bitter hiss. "Whatcha think?"

Amelia listened while she placed some things away. That last question took her back a little, as she didn't fully expect for Jerome to ask her opinion on his plans. It went to show that, perhaps he really _did_ see her as an equal... which was nice. A grin curled one corner of her red lips at that. " _Well,"_ she sent on whacking one spot of her sofa where some clothes lay sprawled out. "I think it all sounds like a blast. I thought it'd be even cooler to look the part," she then shoved one of the articles of clothing to Jerome. He observed it, and then grinned. Amelia had chosen a a red and ivory carnival showman outfit for him, and then held up her own outfit; some type of gothic gypsy outfit with layeres of black, white and purple. Each one looked quite appropriate, and couldn't help but please Jerome. Once Amelia was finished with gathering her tools for the main act, she'd make her way over to help the others while Jerome prepared to infultrate the Wayne maor that night.

 _-That night-_

The carnival was alight, rides spinning and whirring even while no one sat inside of them. Most all of the booth games had been transformed into much more morbid versions; the a whack-a-mole booth had been equipped with random people dragged off the streets instead, and some brave followers took their chances standing at the knife throwing booth. Amelia meanwhile was finishing up the circle where the main act would be held. A few fans and her had postioned a giant red canon in front of a pole where Bruce would be tied up. Before that though, he'd take a spot at Amelia's personal stand in the circle and would be rendered helpless. The plan surely would go swimmingly, a fact that made Amelia's red lips quirk in approval. Shrill cries and screams echoed through the space as more victims were led inside of the crazed carnival.

Soon, Jerome made his entrance, with a tense looking Bruce held closely to him. "All right, folks!" Jerome crowed loudly, close to his ear, making Bruce wince in aggravation. "Now the _real_ fun begins," Jerome growled, almost hungrily as he flashed a baleful grin to the adolscent in his grasp. Amelia approached, clad in her new outfit, to guide Bruce over the main circle with Jerome. Jerome glanced to her, almost stuttering like an idiot when he witnessed how lovely she looked in her outfit, which showed a decent amount of one leg. Jerome wasn't about to make this know, however. This was his _partner..._ in crime, after all. Bruce looked to her, blinking as he realized he recognized who she was. "Have a seat," Amelia instructed as she guided him to sit at her circular table. Then, she proceeded to cuff him to it so he didn't run off. Getting rid of the kid was essential to building Jerome's vision, which Amelia didn't take _too_ seriously. She was there to help Jerome, as his right hand. The fact she found the little Wayne annoying anyway, made the job that much easier as well.

"Amelia Stone," Bruce directed to her, voice some what soft, though tense, agitated. "I've seen you before. What are you doing, working for a freak like Jerome?"

"Uh. I'm right here," Jerome interjected, though was ignored for now.

"That is not your concern, kid," Amelia sent on plainly as she finished cuffing him, then flicked her large eyes at him. Bruce gazed at those eyes a moment; the look in them was utterly frigid. It was different from the crazy look Jerome often held... it was actually quite a bit more _intimidating._

"This isn't like you, you wouldn't really stoop this low..." Bruce sent on, his dark eyes fixed on hers intently, as if trying to convince her to stop what she was doing. He was good, but Amelia would _not_ give into that.

"Hmm, and you're suggesting this of someone who you don't know outside of being a mysterious witch who casts spells on people to misfortune them?" Amelia quipped through a chime of laughter. And then her expression morphed as she leaned to him; into something utterly venomous. "Look kid, it is not your concern. Kids like you tick me off, and unfortunately for you, you're right _smack_ in the way of a vision that must be carried out." She leaned away then, ruffling his hair and flashing a big grin. " _Cheer up!_ You're the star of the show!"

Soon, after Jerome gaze his announcement for everyone to gather around, Amelia took her spot in front of Bruce. He still had that look in his eye; as if he was trying to reach into Amelia to pull any ounce of good that may in her, out. It wouldn't work. A black cloth that had been placed over the table was pulled from it by Jerome in a fluid motion. "Now, everyone. Watch closely as it is not every day one gets to witness the work of _The Great Amelia,"_ Jerome enunciated, rolling his R's and motioning to the table, "firsthand," a grin stretched upon his lips, and then he observed with the crowd. Amelia motioned her hands over the glass orb that had been revealed.

"Gaze into the orb, Bruce. Don't resist," Amelia threatened, softly, flashing her eyes at him. The young man clad in black did all he could to keep his eyes on Amelia, and not the orb, though the more he felt the aura around them changing, the harder it became. Dark eyes shifted, slowly, to the orb, stirring a few soft chatterings from the crowd. Amelia heard the dark little snicker that emitted from Jerome, who stood near. Bruce gazed into the orb now, fully unable to resist at this point. Something of it felt enchanting, alluring... and the colors that danced around inside of the glass were otherworldly. The colors then seemed to bleed from the orb and around him, covering him in a pleasant—sort of dreary—state. "Do not resist," Amelia repeated, as she uncuffed him and directed him now to Jerome.

"Now for Phase Two," Jerome stated to the crowd, who watched intently as the obliging Bruce followed easily along to be tied onto the pole by Jerome. Bruce was in a state, and was currently helpless. "We will end our show... with a _bang,"_ Jerome motioned to the red cannon now, drawing up applause from the crowd. Amelia was going over to light the fuse, and inches from it, vehicles were heard skidding up and into the scene.

"GCPD! Everyone, stay where you are!" Jim Gordon could be heard bellowing through the mob of officers that was rushing in. Amelia hurriedly lit the cannon while Jerome's followers trampled into the officers, looking close to a war scene as they attempted to fend them off. From where Bruce was, the sudden noises were muffled, though apparent through his state inside of Amelia's spell. He fought to regain himself, as he heard the fuse crackling away as it burned. With a grunt, he proceeded to struggle against the ropes binding him that became apparent as he still struggled through the spell. The explosion rang loud in his ears, and his heart was pounding deafeningly, though he felt his body fall to the ground. Soon, Bruce had somehow broken the spell and was sprinting anywhere away from the scene; and happened to end up inside of the House of Mirrors.

Amelia glanced to Jerome with wide eyes when she noted this. "What the hell?!" Amelia shrieked. "No one has ever broken a spell that easily!"

"C'mon," Jerome urged her away from the scene and into the House of Mirrors with him, gun in hand. Amelia reached into her own pocket, her katana now poised. "Don't feel bad 'melia... Little Wayney always proves _difficult,"_ Jerome assured.

"Just for that, I'm gonna gut him," Amelia growled as they proceeded through the maze of mirrors, splitting ways in unison, to hunt down Bruce.

"Here, Brucey Brucey," Jerome taunted, voice rising a few octaves as his eyes glanced about. "I ain't gonna hurt ya..."

Amelia rolled her eyes, still able to hear Jerome from across the room. "You always beat around the bush, Jerome. What he means by that, is we _are going to rip you apart!"_ Amelia shrieked. Jerome cackled at this wildly.

"Ha!" Jerome spotted Bruce then, who had dodged his bullet that went sailing into a mirror, shattering it to pieces. Then, Bruce's fist drove into Jerome's face, causing him to topple over momentarily before he shot back onto his feet. A laugh rolled from his lips, a low and taunting sound. His gun was placed into his holster as his gloved hands rose. Amelia had followed the sound of the clamoring, though Jerome held his hand out to signal her to stop before plunging her knife into Bruce. "Fine, Bruce, we can fight fair and square. Mano y mano..." his voice rolled, as Jerome settled with relishing every moment he could before he took the kid out for _good._ Bruce surged forward, shouting as he propelled his fists towards Jerome again, until he was atop him. Taking a piece of broken glass, Bruce moved to plunge it into Jerome's face, though stopped just short of his nose. Amelia's feet moved, though halted when Jerome again motioned to stop her.

"Just _how_ insane are you?!" Amelia shrieked, voice shaking faintly. "You're really ready to lose _this_ easily...?!" Jerome was unpredicatable, she knew this... she was also aware that he didn't care much about himself, let alone if he _died._ In his eyes, at least he would have died trying to accomplish his goals, and he'd live on anyway. And yet Amelia was shaken by this, and refused to let this happen. Not this _soon._

Jerome stared up at Bruce, who still held the large shard of glass in his hand, so close to Jerome. So close to being able to _end all of this madness._ A scream rolled from Bruce's chest as he struggled against his conscious. "C'mon, Bruce. _Do it,"_ Jerome urged through clenched teeth, eyes wildly watching him struggle. "You know you want to... give into all of that _hate..."_ a chuckle rolled from Jerome, quietly, as his eyes turned to Amelia then. She was clutching her katana with both hands, struggling as well. Green eyes flicked from Bruce to Jerome, her red lips parted in disbelief. There was something in her eyes... All Jerome could think was that she seemed conflicted. And she _hated_ to see him in this position, as readily as he was. Another chuckle rolled from him, though this time, it was a weak and defeated sound. Bruce dropped the shard of glass, sending it shattering just beside Jerome's face.


	6. Spill

The police siren wailed as the vehicle made way hastily for Arkham Asylum. Jerome and Amelia had been stripped of any weapons and were bound with handcuffs, having been ducked into the police car by Jim Gordon. Amelia was in a bit of a daze on the way there; eyes shifted over to look outside of the car window. The fact this was her first time being taken to such a place, where only the vilest of criminals went, didn't phase her much. She was reeling about what happened back inside of the House of Mirrors. How Jerome had handled the situation...

Soon, they were being escorted into their cells, Amelia sticking her tongue out when the guard wasn't looking and Jerome grinning when he spotted that. They had been in such a rush to get the two locked up, that Amelia wasn't about to say anything about the fact they'd been placed in cells beside one another. The dreary guard sauntered off without a word outside of a few unintelligible mumbles, Amelia and Jerome watching until they were out of sight. Green eyes flicked around the barren cell. It was musky, and there were no openings save for a vent and a small window with bars dividing her cell from Jerome's. For a long moment, Amelia realized she didn't know what to say to him. Frustration was welling in the pit of the raven haired young woman's stomach, and she paced slowly around, trying to figure out what was wrong with her.

Jerome hummed an off beat tune, before he moved to the window to peer past the bars and at Amelia. His head tilted a little, as he noted how her demeanor had shifted. Was she having second thoughts about being his partner...? Red brows furrowed curiously. "Something's up," he said, inclining to her as much as he could with metal bars in his way. Amelia paced a moment longer, before slowly turning to him. Though her gaze struggled to meet his. "Well, what's on your mind? Are you afraid?" he questioned, with a dark though playful grin.

Amelia rolled her eyes. "No," she sent on. "I'm not afraid. It's only a matter of time before we get out of this dump, anyway. I'm pissed," she admitted, eyes turning to Jerome now, burning into him.

"What? Because I was taunting that little snot back at the carnival? So what?" Jerome asked, with a large shrug.

"It wasn't the taunting," Amelia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, growing impatient. "Why would you so easily give him the upper hand? Lay your life on a platter like that?" Amelia asked, stepping closer to the window now, glaring at Jerome. "I know you've mentioned all this shit about legacies or whatever," she sent on, waving her hands around as she grew more and more exasperated. This was difficult. There was something inside of Amelia that wanted to fly out, but she would not allow it. Instead she just wanted to make it seem like she was angry at Jerome for being so weak.

"What's it to you? It's my life, isn't it? What do you care if I wanted to give up, see the little runt cave into darkness? Death won't be the end of me, and you know it," Jerome sent on, hazel eyes boaring into Amelia's. Jerome knew that there was something else she was not telling him, some other reason for her anger at him. He wanted her to _admit_ whatever that reason was.

"Yeah, I _get_ that!" Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, realizing her temper was already seething over. She had to try to keep her voice down, otherwise she'd attract the guards. A huff left her in a soft growl. Anger was still fighting to take over, to mask her other emotions. All too often she'd given into rage over anything else... hiding like a coward from anything else. Anything else was too difficult to face... but being locked up here with nothing to smash and no way out, with Jerome leaned over and looking intently at her through those dingy bars... there was no escape now. Green eyes stared at the cement floor a moment. Words were nearly impossible to get out, in a calm way, at least. "Sure, Jerome," Amelia finally managed, still unable to look at him again. "Your legacy will rein on... but if you gave up back there, well... I wouldn't... have you as a partner anymore." The words were too sincere, too _soft._ It made Amelia's stomach churn.

A soft cackle left Jerome, a mocking one. Even if he was joking, that laugh sent her temper blazing all over again. "Wouldn't have me as a partner anymore," Jerome recounted as his laughter grew a bit. "Who _cares?_ I find it hysterical that that even matters to you so _much_!" Jerome was hiding as well, behind his mockery of Amelia's sudden vulnerability. His laughing abruptly halted when Amelia was at the window in a flash, hand grasping his shirt and hauling him into the bars, hitting his head in the process.

"You're a piece of _shit,"_ Amelia spat as her wide eyes boared into his. Jerome stared back, relishing the violence that doused Amelia's gaze, a soft laugh snaking from the young man.

"Oh, we both knew that, _Amelia..."_ Jerome whispered darkly. For a moment they remained there, eyes burning into one another; Amelia's in utter rage, Jerome's in mockery and a hint of deranged satisfaction. "Tell me the truth..." Jerome said after a moment in rasped whisper, eyes trailing slowly over Amelia's features; her soft short splay of hair, her pale freckled skin, her full red lips. Eyes latched onto those lips for a long moment. Amelia's breathing was ragged as she fought the anger that blazed at her nerves. The look that Jerome held now was one she hadn't witnessed before, and with their faces so close now she could see it very clearly; longing. It was apparent in how he studied her so intently, his lips parting slightly as he gazed at her mouth. Amelia let him go, pushing him back as she shifted away like a frightened feline. " _Tell me the truth,"_ Jerome demanded, hands clutching the bars which he hobbled back over to.

" _I didn't want to lose you this soon, you stupid sack of shit!"_ Amelia finally exploded, hauling herself back towards the bars and shrieking in Jerome's face. Reaching through the bars, she drove her fist into his eye, growling as she reached desperately to beat him in some more. To get her rage out entirely. How _dare_ he bring out such vulnerability in her and then _mock_ her for it... Even when Amelia knew he might be pretending. It pissed her off more than anything. Guards came clamoring into Amelia's cell then as she growled continuously. "I'll beat the shit out of you! How _dare_ you?!" Guards were pulling the thrashing young woman away then, to calm her with an injection and then place her in a cell away from Jerome. Jerome watched as she had been dragged away, his grin fading as he stared at the closing metal door. He knew he could not afford to have his partner in crime in this state... he would need to do what he could to calm her, so that they could leave Arkham and still join forces. He _needed_ her prowess... even if that meant coming clean about these emotions that nagged at him, that he hid behind just as Amelia did in her own special, violent fashion. Jerome was drawn to her, and while coming clean might pose as a risk... it was likely needed, at this point.

 _-Later that day; Arkham Asylum Cafeteria-_

Amelia took her tray of slimy-looking slop from the serving table, moving past the other bumbling criminals that glanced at her. Some people sat together, clearly familiar with each other as they joked around and chattered. Amelia growled at them as she moved past to sit somewhere _alone._ Flopping down in her spot, she picked at her food rather than ate it. It wouldn't have been so bad to be locked up with a friend, someone to work with to get out of this place, though after that exchange in the cells, Amelia wasn't sure where anything stood. It was too difficult to say if Jerome was hiding anything, and it pissed her off beyond belief that he knew she had feelings for him while he kept her in the dark about whether he did as well. The ginger truly was _insane..._ Amelia huffed, taking a bite of her food and immediately gagging at how disgusting it was. She would need to find a way out soon, even if it meant doing so on her own.

Jerome strode into the cafeteria as he'd been hesitating long enough before the guards pestered him to go and eat. He whistled casually, hands in his pockets as he glanced around, not too surprised to see Amelia sitting alone around a small corner where a wall divided a small section of the room. Hazel eyes flicked to the group of other prisoners that looked his way. He would have them all under his thumb soon enough, but first he needed Hex Girl on board. Two would be better than one, if they were to set forth an escape plan. Jerome strode over to the more private-ish section of the cafeteria, Amelia's brows furrowing as soon as she heard the footsteps that were approaching. A gleaming fork was pointing at Jerome from where Amelia sat, her green eyes fixed upon him. Jerome held his hands up, avoiding the urge to grin as he wanted her to know he was being _serious._

"Come any closer and I will wedge this fork into your stupid face," Amelia threatened, scowling at Jerome.

"Amelia," Jerome sent on, not moving an inch and keeping his hands up. The most he did was incline his head to her, very slightly, a few random strands of red hair falling into his eyes. The thudding of his heart was becoming more apparent. Walking on up to the cafeteria had been moderately simple... but now that he was putting himself on the spot, his nerves were getting the better of him.

"What?!" Amelia barked, her voice like a knife cutting through the air.

"I realize you are upset with me," Jerome sent on, slowly, trying not to stutter as his body grew rigid. Amelia quirked a thin brow, noticing how oddly he was acting. It was a bit of a shift from his _mockery_ earlier. "Uh..." Jerome stammered, blinked a little.

"Out with it. Stop wasting my time," Amelia stood, prowling closer and holding her fork to his neck.

Jerome's face was growing hot at this point, and he wondered if he were sweating. His throat grew dry as he was rendered speechless, eyes darting around a little as he fought in his mind. A natural instinct for him was to crack some sort of joke, but this was not the time. It was exceedingly difficult coming to terms with coming clean about his feelings, and he instinctively was trying to find a way to skirt around having to do that. "Look, I just really could use your help, Amelia," he flicked his eyes desperately to hers then, feeling the cold little prongs of her fork touching his Adam's apple. "If we're going to find a way out of Looneyville, we have to work together, what d'ya say?" He cracked a tense grin then, though Amelia could tell he was hiding some things. She would drag it out of him, just as he had done to her.

"Help you?" Amelia chuckled dryly. "After you mocked me back in the cells? When you _know_ what hell I've been through in the past and how _fucking_ difficult it was to say all of that?" Cold prongs dung into Jerome's skin firmly. "I don't like being _toyed_ with," Amelia hissed.

Jerome winced as the fork drew up some specks of blood. Amelia rose her arm then, moving to drive the fork into Jerome's neck, though he caught her arm, swiftly coiling his other arm around her waist and drawing her close to him, making it difficult for her to move. Jerome moved then, lips ghosting past along Amelia's neck, the action immediately causing her to pause from her place struggling against his grasp. Green eyes widened. "What are you doing? Let me _go_. I'll kill you," Amelia threatened, though her voice came out in a quiet hiss, as their closeness made her so very confused and yet so lost in the moment. If words didn't come easily, Jerome supposed actions spoke just as loudly.

Despite how edgy Amelia was, her smell was something soft and pleasant, so much so that Jerome nearly felt his knees give way at being able to be so close to her like this. Amelia was in a bit of shock, as she felt Jerome plant a surprisingly gentle kiss upon her neck. Amelia's green eyes were round and wide in disbelief.

"Amelia... there's no reason to react so violently," Jerome grinned then, as he shifted gently to speak into her ear. His wily hazel eyes glinted in intrigue at these strange, new sensations, "no matter how charming it may be. You should know I was only pushing your buttons earlier, I can't help but bask in how _explosive_ that temper of yours is," a soft chuckle chimed from him. So, this was his way of showing that he _did_ reciprocate...? Amelia was floored. Perhaps, she knew it all along, but it was such a tight rope to have to tread on... All she could do was stare ahead, doe-eyed and shocked. She wanted to cower away, to hide... to do _anything_ but be this vulnerable... Jerome's hold on her loosened then, as he held his hand out for her to shake. "So, what d'ya say ol' Witchy One? Shall we join forces once again?"

Amelia blinked a few times, though shook his hand. "Yeah, sure..." she agreed, in a daze. Perhaps first, it would be best to lay in her cell for a bit, to get ahold of her spinning head.


	7. Rise of the Legion of Horribles

As soon as the buzzer sounded, indicating that lunch time was finished, Amelia scurried away and back to her cell. As the door was locked behind her by the guard, with an ear-splitting _screech,_ she closed her eyes, murmuring to herself, chanting to _hopefully_ calm down. It was impossible, though. Feet moved as she paced, hands rising to grasp at her dark tufts of hair as she whispered her chants. "Ugh," Amelia groaned, defeated. What had just transpired with Jerome may have been such a small gesture, and yet it sent her mind spinning. Lowering to the ground, she placed her head against her knees, hugging her legs, breathing as steadily as she could. The anxiety attack that was threatening to take over faded, slowly. "We'll be able to escape soon," Amelia murmured to herself, in a hush. "That's _all_ that matters..." Hopefully, when she did face Jerome again, they could just act like none of that happened. None of that had been _said._ That would make her worlds more comfortable. She'd merely gotten caught in the moment, seeing him so close to death a few days prior... hadn't she? The green eyed witch was in disbelief, and it seemed that Jerome's gentle kiss upon her neck has tattooed onto her, a tiny buzz of sensation still radiating in her skin where his lips had landed. It was _annoying._ With a heavy sigh, she sat cross-legged, and meditated, willing her mind to calm.

Over in Jerome's cell, the ginger maniac was in a bit of a daze as well, though hardly as much as Amelia was. Jerome felt satisfied to have the With of Gotham on his team still, and it had come to his attention that some other infamous villians were locked up on the other side of the structure. Certainly, he would have to find a way to get everyone on board so that they could all break out soon. It may have taken some time, though with Amelia on his side, the process would hoepfully be sped up. Jerome wondered if there were some tools he may be able to scavenge so that she could cast some of her handy little spells on the guards. His mind did wander back to how he'd essentially 'told' Amelia the truth of his feelings. Though, he hadn't outright _admitted_ anything, just pulled a smooth little move on her without having to come off too... _soft_ or sincere, or anything like that. That wasn't exactly his style. Jerome was having trouble with this, as he knew that his connection with Amelia went beyond him just wanting to flirt with her, be a creep or get in her pants. The fact he knew it was more is what tripped him up, what made him hesitate so much. Plus, there was the fact of Amelia's rough past. Jerome didn't exactly want to come off too strong, knowing the little witch didn't trust men all too much... all at once, he found her to be vastly irresistable.

The important thing now would be to pull forth his plan. Jerome bided his time until he would meet with Amelia and the other prisoners again.

 _-The following afternoon-_

Most of the prisoners were directed to go to recreation time to socialize. The area consisted of a room surrounded by a locked gate, set to be unlocked when their time was up. There were some benches scattered around the space, and a few 'safe' games to partake in, if anyone should choose to. Now that Jerome was in plain sight, there was no doubt that his appearance there turned some heads. Amelia was amongst the crowd as he made his announcement to the prisoners once the guards were out of earshot, made his mark upon them and assured them that they would all be free soon enough. The prisoners were already following suit, effectively setting forth the tone for the _Legion of Horribles._ "Hex Girl, where are you?" Jerome urged Amelia up onto the table with him, still wanting to make it clear that he still hand a right hand to the public. Amelia fumbled, though stepped up to introduce herself to the prisoners, who all whispered amongst themselves when they recognized her. There was some buzz between her and Jerome, but Amelia tried her best to ignore it.

" _Objection,_ " a voice intercepted, causing Jerome to furrow his brows in disapproval.

"Objection? What are ya, stupid?" Jerome countered, eyes finding that the one who had spoken was in fact 'The Penguin'. The tiny man hobbled forth, lips pressed in a thin line, his hair a messy scrawl upon his head. Jerome couldn't help but think it wouldn't hurt the guy to spruce up a little. "Don't you want out of this place? Cause we will gladly skip you and leave you in this stink hole, if you that's what ya want," Jerome leaned so that his face was directly in front of Penguin's.

"Ah, are you kidding? Of course I do. I was objecting about _her,"_ he motioned an arm to Amelia, seeming uncomfortable with having Jerome this close. Amelia could tell Penguin was trying his best not to _cringe,_ and that made her snicker softly. Jerome was a figure all right, and many cowered in his presence. He had sway, a band of followers and bursting charisma. All while Amelia backed him up, mostly in the shadows and with a fear-inducing presence as well. They were both powerful in their own ways, and made a _deadly_ team. Even with a slight tension between them, Amelia admittedly enjoyed working alongside him.

"What's your issue with me, huh?" Amelia was already inching to Penguin, ready to strangle his scrauny little neck. The only thing stopping her was Jerome's hand that halted her from inching any further, to which her eyes flicked to Jerome in vexation.

"A _witch?_ You've got to be joking," Penguin sputtered out a laugh, spitting as he did. "Just _how_ is she supposed to help?"

"Ah, so we have a skeptic," Jerome drawled with rolling, slow chuckle. "Just sit back and watch the show, _Pengy_. You will find out what Amelia is capable of. I would be careful what you say to her too, she could very well make your life a living hell..." he _tsked,_ raising his brows at Penguin mockingly, who was grinning a smug little grin, his eyes crinkling. Jerome blinked at that expresiion, mildly confused by it.

"Sounds to me like Amelia here's got you wrapped around her pinky," Penguin teased. Jerome recoiled, glancing to Amelia and stuttered.

"Ah... well if you knew what she is capable of, you'd be, wouldn't you?" Jerome cackled softly, and then got into Penguin's face again, darkness in his gaze, to which Penguin cowered faintly, though still glared at hm with those icy eyes. "Hex Girl and I will be at the top of the chain before you know it, _bub_ , I personally guarantee it. We will be _unstoppable,"_ he motioned has hands in mock-showmanship. "Show a little respect, would ya...?"

"So tell me," Penguin, turned to Amelia then, abruptly, ignoring Jerome. "Just _how_ are you going to cast your spells without any tools?" He tilted his head to the side. "Hmm?"

"Who says I need tools?" Amelia quirked a brow, eyes peering into Penguin's cruelly. She reached abruptly then, ripping some pieces of Penguin's hair out.

" _Ow!_ What are you doing?!" Penguin complained, his head jerking, a hand touching at his hair. Jerome cackled softly in the background, amused at Amelia's relentlessness.

"But to take things up a notch for _your_ curse, I'll be saving this," Amelia grinned, pocketing the hair as Penguin's eyes widened.

"What-?!" Penguin spat, staring up at Amelia with wide, blue eyes. " _No!_ Damn it, fine, I believe you can help, just- no curses. Gah, that is the last thing I need," Penguin mumbled, hobbling away from the pair then. The truth was, Penguin knew what the young woman could do, and didn't doubt she'd improved over the years. There was a reason she was able to stand aside someone as infamous as Jerome Valeska. Penguin was just irritated that he was being bossed around by someone so... _vile._

A figure clad in a top hat then approached, voice rising and falling in a naturally sing-songy tone. "My, oh _my_... might I admit I for one greatly look forward to seeing a like-minded soul weave such a plot," Jervis reached to grab Amelia's hand, rising it to kiss. Amelia scowled, while Jerome looked to the Mad Hatter in disbelief and exaggerated disapproval. Jervis grinned a cat like grin, flashing his sizeable teeth as Amelia flinched her hand away from him. She recognized him though, knew his history a bit.

"Like minded? Er... not exactly..." Amelia stared at him with an odd expression. She wouldn't say she had much in common with Jervis, especially not the whole... sister obsession stuff. The fact he suggested that they were _similar_ disgusted her.

"Well, we certainly have similar approaches, do we not?" Jervis sent on, with a grin, hands clasped behind his back now. "I was meaning to tell you both, I am being held on the opposite side of the asylum along with Scarecrow... It should be made known that I could find a way to put the guards on the end under a spell of my own, while you perhaps take care of the ones on this side? Sounds... reasonable?" He quipped, with a firm nod of his head. Amelia and Jerome glanced at each other.

"It sounds like you're onto somethin'," Jerome nodded, crossing his arms and eyeing Jervis then, wearily. "Just... don't do that again," he grinned a menacing grin, glaring at Jervis harshly. It took a moment for the brunette to understand what Jerome meant, before it clicked.

"Oh!" Jervis chuckled a little, seeming amused by this as he glanced from Jerome and to Amelia, nd then back to Jerome. "I do apologize. You are a _lucky_ man," Jervis jabbed Jerome on the chest with a finger, before he was moving away.

"Yeah, we're not actually-" Amelia proceeded to argue that she _was not_ 'with' Jerome, though was interrupted as Jervis spoke.

"When the clock strikes tonight, keep your ears open little miss Witch," he called as he proceeded off to his corner, practising some hypnotism and some random prisoners. Amelia flicked a look to Jerome, before stepping off of the bench they stood upon. A tiny grin couldn't help but linger on her lips at the fact Jerome was apparently _jealous_ of another male having kissed her hand. She wouldn't dare bring it up, especially not the fact it pleased her. She sauntered off then when the gate was opened, mind turning back to how she'd place a spell on the guards in time. There had been some instances, when she tried hard enough, that she could cast a spell with visualizations only... thus, as she made her way slowly down the dim halls and to her cell. She passed all of the guards present, intense green eyes intently flicking over each face, memorizing them. It seemed they didn't expect she was up to anything, which she could not help but muse over.

After a little bit of time had passed, Amelia took a seat cross-legged in the center of her cell. Green eyes slipped closed and she emptied her mind. Then, one by one, she envisioned each of the guards she had seen on her way up the halls. She lingered on each face, then planting a seed into each of their minds; they were to follow her command to release each of the prisoners on this side of the building, and they were not to be awoken until after the prisoners were long gone. Sensations rushed over her as each seed was placed, her third eye thrumming heavily. Power seemed to be washing over her in overwhelming waves, and something notable was the dark entity that entered her mind; appearing like a gust of softly shifting smoke, in the shape of a ghoulish face. It was an evil spirit entering her mind, coming to assist her in her plans. A michievious little grin grew upon red lips as she heard her cell door suddenly unlatch- _screeech-_ and then be pulled open by a zombified guard.

"Thanks," Amelia sent on with a smirk as she rose, strutting past the unblinking guard. More guards moved past her in their stupor, unlatching each and every metallic door. Each one screeched open loudly, prisoners pouring out of their cells. As they passed Amelia, they cheered her on as she moved through the halls with a wicked grin plastered on her face. A laugh, elated and diabolical all the same, flew from her lips. " _Freedom!"_

Hex Girl then made her way to Jerome's cell, which was opened by a guard as she approached. Jerome came forth, with a grin to match Amelia's. "You, my little witch, are _something_ ," Jerome cackled wildly as the two marched their way over to the other side of the building to meet with the others.

Jervis had successfully tricked one of the guards, who was wearing headphones to drown out his own vocal spells, into entering his cell long enough to hypontise another (less bright) guard who had entered in behind her. One under his spell was all he needed in order to direct her to unlocking the other prisoner's cells, along with Scarecrows. "Everything has come together _beautifully,"_ Jervis beamed, to which the others crowed in a bout of maniacal laughter. They made way over to Penguin's cell then, Jervis's victim unlocking the door with ease. Penguin flicked his eyes over at the villians standing in his door way, then hobbled frantically over to them, laughing in disbelief. "You really did it," Penguin grabbed Amelia's hand, pleadingly. "I'm sorry I doubted you before. Just, _don't_ place a curse on my head. _Please?"_ Penguin begged, stuttering uncontrollably and nodding his head several times. Amelia shoved him off of her.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't sweat it, alright?" Amelia smirked, relishing all too much being able to have the upper hand now. "We've got to scram already, hurry the hell up," Amelia directed to Penguin and the others.

"Could ya... at least get rid of the weirdo over there?" Jerome flicked his gaze to Jervis, indicating the guard he'd hypontised. Ironically, the female guard was the most normal looking one present in the midst of five lunatics. Jervis mouthed something to the guard, who nodded, and then cut her throat open and fell to the ground. "That's better," Jeorme bobbed his head in approval.

Jerome, Scarecrow, Hex Girl, Mad Hatter and Penguin all paved they way out of Arkham Asylum then, prisoners following them out in a frenzied flock; hooting, laughing and shouting in glee. The large smile upon Amelia's lips hadn't left, and Jerome made silly faces at the prisoners dancing outside of the asylum in celebration. _The Legion of Horribles_ had been created, and they would now be free to reap chaos as they each saw fit. Gotham would certainly be in for lots of treats, and Jim Gordon would no doubt be crushed under all of the pressure. Gotham would belong to the _dark side..._


	8. Turbulence

After Amelia and Jerome's escape, the two of them made way to his warehouse to alert his band of followers. Everyone was relieved to see that he'd broken free in only a matter of about a week, though no one seemed too surprised. They had faith in him, which was a good thing. It was also made known that Amelia had a huge part in making the escape possibile, as well as Jervis Tetch. As much as the Mad Hatter had rubbed Jerome the wrong way, he was a companion and was not to be messed with, which was made clear to the followers. Secretly however, Jerome would not hesitate to kill him however if he laid a hand on Amelia ever again. Now, it was time to see certain things through. Jerome directed Amelia into his office, flicking on the hanging cieling light as they entered. Amelia flopped onto his desk, crossing her legs and glancing at her clothes. Hearing what Jerome had to say was important, though she really was anxious to get home and take a proper shower...

"Though the Wayne brat is a key portion of my grand scheme," Jerome sent on as he paced the room slowly, also still clad in his striped prisoner's uniform, "I think I will put those plans off , just for the being. I'm thinking... in the near future you and I will need to approach that again, " he concluded, then moving onto his next point. Amelia nodded, relieved that he was keeping things 'business only'. "Now that we're out of the Looney Bin, I think it's _high_ time I pay some key people from my past a visit... starting with dear old _Uncle_ ," Jerome explained, darkness looming in his eyes, before his gaze flicked to Amelia.

"Well, it is a personal matter... Would you prefer to carry that out alone...?" she asked, recalling the stories about this uncle of his, cringing a little as she did. He was the one who had a part in the shaping of who Jerome was now; someone who had relentlessly abused him as a child. The one who had truly painted Jerome crazy, however, was his brother... Amelia wondered faintly why Jerome hadn't set forth to track him down yet, though assumed it would take careful planning.

Jerome touched his chin, considering what Amelia said. "Truthfully, I do think it would be best to go about it alone... but if you could, keep an eye on things," Jerome concluded, nodding a little towards her. His uncle Zach was a bastard, and though Jerome detested that _pathetic_ fat man, he knew better than to underestimate him.

Soon, Jerome set out to see this task through, once and for all. Amelia in turn went to run some errands, being sure to keep close to the cafe where Jerome would be targeting Zach. She'd brought her crystal ball along, and planned to use it, when she had a moment to make sure nothing went wrong while Jerome was off on his task. After exiting one small shop with a few bags of some essentials, she went into her vehicle and parked somewhere vacant. Lifting her silk cloth over her head, she motioned her hands over her orb now which rested upon her lap. The image of Jerome and Zach sitting across from one another in a cafe booth came through. So far, things seemed okay. Jerome was beating around the bush and playing mental games like he _always_ did... but Amelia felt she should keep watching a while longer, to be safe.

They continued talking, Jerome tried a few soups Zach had set in from of him... and then things got interesting. Jerome at last had brought up his past with his vile uncle, Amelia scowling at the sight of the man. He looked as disgusting as Jerome had descriped him. Jerome laughed hysterically as he recalled how his uncle would punish him, before his expression fell into something much darker. Zach was shifting away then, around the counter of the cafe, bringing a bowl of soup with him. He placed it into the microwave, and that's when Amelia kept a very keen eye on things. A towering, black male emerged, seemingly from out of nowhere and was latching Jerome in his strong arms in the next moment. The image in the orb dissolved as Amelia rushed frantically out of her car and zipped down the street to the cafe.

Upon entering the cafe, Amelia's eyes went wide when she witnessed Jerome's uncle pouring seering hot soup all over his face, Jerome groaning in agony. Amelia pointed her gun. " _Let him go,"_ the witch hissed at the large man holding Jerome firmly in place.

"Amelia," Jerome rasped, eyes still watering from the burning sensation that clawed into his flesh. "Put your gun down. He's _mine,"_ Jerome insisted.

Amelia growled in frustration at Jerome's unfaltering persistence. "You are always so God damn _difficult,"_ green eyes moved to the front entrance of the shop as the door was flung open. Marching inside was Bruce Wayne, who's dark eyes shifted from Amelia and to Jerome as he took in the scene in front of him. Bruce had arrived when he heard that Jerome had escaped... feeling it was _his_ duty to get rid of the red headed maniac, since he did not have the courage to kill him a week ago. Seeing _this_ now however left the teenager conflicted...

"Let him go," Bruce urged to the large man clad in black after a moment of inward struggle. Amelia blinked, baffled by what was going on. Why was _Bruce_ helping his sworn enemy?

Zach rasped out a dry laugh. "Wow! You've got friends _and_ a little girlfriend to back you up, huh? Let's see how they fair against Lunkhead." Lunkhead was then dropping Jerome from his steel grasp and was first approaching Amelia, the ground nearly shaking under his weight.

"I am _not_ his girlfriend," Amelia hissed to Zach. The witch clad in Gothic attire surged forward, spinning like an ice-skater as she kicked Lunkhead in the face. His build was so solid however, that he'd hardly budged. Green eyes widened as Lunkhead was lifting Amelia easily off of the ground, to which Bruce came rushing in, tossing a plate at him that had clattered against his solid head. Lunkhead dropped Amelia flat on her butt as he targetted Bruce now, who tried his best to fend him off with a bamboo stick he'd yanked off of a decoartive plant.

Jerome meanwhile glanced to Zach with a hungry smirk, a devious and low laugh rolling out of him as he stepped near. "Lunkhead over there is pretty occupied, huh?" He was nearly quaking in anticipation as he snatched a gallon of bleach from under the work counter and approached Zach with it, a big and devilish grin plastered on his face.

"What are you doing?" Zach blinked, sweating now as his manical nephew approached with the bleach.

"It would tickle me _pink_ to watch you die a _slow and horrible death..."_ Jerome clarified, voice first rising joyously and then dropping into something utterly sinister. Then, his tone rose again as he twisted the bottle cap off and edged the bleach towards Zach's mouth. "But first, I'm going to need some information from you. Or... we could see what else is on the menu...? Open up! Here comes the airplane! _Vvvwwooosh-"_ Jerome was proceeding to edge the gallon closer to Zach's mouth.

"Stop, stop! What do you need to know? I'll tell you whatever you need to know," Zach insisted, waving his hands, paniced.

"Atta boy. Where was my brother last seen?" Jerome questioned.

"Ah, um..." Uncle Zach hesistated, to which Amelia had moved, placing the cold blade of her short katana upon his neck. So, that was the other reason Jerome had paid uncle a visit? To get information on his brother... Two birds with one stone, to which Amelia silently commended Jerome.

"So, I guess choking on bleach _and_ your blood is your preference?" Amelia tilted her head, cracking Zach a sinister grin to Zach. "While I was planning on leaving you in Jerome's hands, I would _love_ to make a worm like _you_ suffer."

"Okay, okay," Zach sputtered, sweating and blinking frantically. "St. Ignacious, that's the school he'd been going to... that's the last thing I've heard about him," Zach swore.

When Jerome nodded his head a little, Amelia moved her blade from Zach's neck. "See you around, uncle," Jerome said, and then shrugged as he took out his gun. "Except, y'know, the opposite of that," with ease, he then turned swiftly, shotting and killing his uncle. Jerome turned away then, glancing to Bruce who was still being held down by Lunkhead's steel grasp. "You know what would be funny?" Jerome quipped to Bruce, who was gazing at the ginger in disbelief, though supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised that Jerome would do such a thing. "If I let the guy you saved me from kill you," a signature crazed cackle flew from Jerome's lips. Amelia couldn't help but grin a big grin at this; this was the Jerome she knew best. Sure, he beat around the bush a little, toyed with his targets. But he was utterly _remorseless._

"That would be ironic," Amelia agreed, flashing her evil little grin at Bruce. "Do your thing, big guy," she lifted her head to Lunkhead. Though, the attention of everyone was gained as someone else came crashing through the back door.

"So, don't need my help, ay, Bruce?" Selina Kyle crossed her arms from where she stood in the doorway.

"Selina, get out of here," Bruce urged, entirely uncomfortable with having her in the presence of some of the most dangerous individuals he'd ever come across.

"Selina..." Jerome sent on, looking to the young woman clad in black leather and short curls of brown hair in interest. "That is a _nice name_..." A creepy grin twitched its way onto his lips then, to which Amelia flicked her eyes to him in disbelief.

" _No,"_ Selina insisted plainly, ignoring Jerome and then lashing her whip out. The weapon coiled it's way around Lunkhead's thick neck, to which he grabbed it and hauled Selina across the room and smack into Bruce.

"Let's get out of here," Amelia urged to Jerome, yanking him—a little too hard—by the collar of his shirt and out of the door.

"See you crazy kids later!" Jerome called out of the door as he and Amelia scampered off. Amelia stormed off to her car, not bothering to wait for Jerome, and then was skidding off down the dark streets. "Hey, wait-" Jerome called, waving his arms a bit and then furrowing his brows. "Well, okay then," a shrug, "guess I'm walkin'..."

Amelia zoomed to her apartment, stormed up the steps and _slammed_ her door shut as she entered her living room. Then she paused, and huffed. "Okay, Amelia," she muttered to herself. "It's time to get to the bottom of this shit..." she then was making her way over to her altar, and looked at herself in the mirror. " _Why_ are you so pissed?" She asked to herself, staring back at her own green eyes. She was shaking in rage, recounting the events at the cafe only moments ago. "Just because... Jerome had the _nerve_ to try hitting on another female? It _shouldn't_ bother you," she growled at herself. For a moment, she stared back at herself, and then sighed heavily. She buried her head in her hands, covered her ears and eyes, trying to tune out everything.

For a long moment, she sat like that, focusing only on the darkness behind her eyes. Amelia wanted all of this to _stop..._ All of this confusion, this frustration...

 _Taptaptap,_ a hasty rap yanked her from her place safe in the darkness, her head lifting. Amelia glanced to the door. Hesistated. Then, she rose from her spot curled up on the floor and swung her door open. There stood Jerome, his expression was... strangely difficult to read.

"What?!" Amelia barked, her mind a blur, though the sight of him was only making her angry.

"May I?" Jerome flicked his eyes over her should and into her apartment. "I've got some news," Jerome said, though was somewhat lying.

"Ugh, fine," Amelia growled, allowing him in, unwillingly.

"What's the matter, Amelia?" Jerome asked, tilting his head. Genuninely, he was confused at this point. This tension between them needed to addressed, however. They made a _good_ team, and Jerome quite frankly was sick of things interrupting them being able to work as best as they could.

" _Nothing_ is the matter!" Amelia insisted, yelling, giving into her anger. If Jerome was realizing anything, it was that she always fell back on her rage... on her darkness. It was her comfort. That's why it was so easy for Amelia to be so utterly remorseless. Nearly as remorseless as Jerome was, himself.

"Amelia," Jerome drawled, tilting his head, knowing she was lying. "Do you remember that night, back at the hideaway?" Jerome sent on, figuring it would be best to start from square one.

"Yes," Amelia said after a moment, still hiding behind her steel wall. Jerome was having a hard time too, and he wasn't very good at being too... to the point. Not in regards to such personal matters. But it was necessary. Seeing her this biligerent towards him just... did not sit well.

"You told me about the time that... _wrench..._ took advantage of you," Jerome sent on, the mere mention of it making his eyes squeeze shut and his teeth clench in rage. "You... made it clear to me that it was difficult for you to trust others," he continued. Amelia was calming, albeit slightly. She still seemed impatient and just wanted to know what the hell his point was.

"And?" Amelia questioned, crossing her arms, though her tone had softened, kind of.

Jerome stuttered. "Well... I can't have you not trusting me. Y'know... we're partners, aren't we?" Jerome offered a slight grin, though seemed uncomfortable with being this candid.

"Well, yeah," Amelia agreed. "And I like helping you," she admitted. "It's been a _blast,_ actually," she smiled then, but it faded quickly. "I'm just... confused." She turned away from him, not exactly wanting to have this conversation.

"Me too," Jerome admitted, thinking a moment. "Why did you rush off like that, eh, speedy Gonzalez?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood, though the aura around them was quite tense.

Amelia fidgeted, not wanting to admit why. Her eyes squeezed shut. "I was... trying to figure that out when I got home," she sent on, huffing. Her mind traced back to the time that Jerome had acted a bit posessive of her back at Arkham... the kiss he laid softly on her neck. And then him trying to flirt with _Selina Kyle..._ Jerome noted the rage that flickered in her eyes then when she looked to him. Her fist abruptly went sailing into Jerome's face then, and he was so caught off guard that he'd effectively been knocked on his butt. Hazel eyes glanced up to her in confusion. "It was because you _clearly_ have no respect for women," Amelia said through clenched teeth.

"Wh-what, cause I 'noticed' Selina?" Jerome questioned, rubbing his jaw a little.

" _YES!"_ Amelia exploded suddenly. _That's_ what it was, Jerome realized. Amelia was pissed because she had gotten _jealous_. The violent little witch just wouldn't admit it... Jerome cackled softly. Then, Amelia snatched him by the shirt and got in his face. " _What_ is so _funny!?"_

Jerome's laughing died off as he peered into Amelia's venomus gaze, eating up the violence that filled her large eyes. "I wasn't doing it because I'm _interested_ in that sassy alley cat," Jerome clarified, figuring now was a good time to cut to the chase, before Amelia could tear into him. "I'm just as confused as you are, Amelia... There we were, at each other's necks in Arkham when you finally had the guts to admit it effected you to see me stare death willingly in the face. Sure, I mocked you for it, but I couldn't help it. I _adore_ seeing you get like this..." he purred, eyes tracing Amelia's features. Amelia blinked, her mind spinning and spinning. "The point is, ever since then people seem to like teasing us about what our... relationship status might be. And yet you _fervently_ deny there's anything between us. Is that really true though?" A wily grin was playing at his lips, and it made Amelia _furious..._ as well as conflicted. "Why else would you get so _butthurt_ when I pretended to be interested in some other broad? Hmm?"

"Shut up," Amelia said plainly, though her intent gaze upon Jerome was beginning to falter. He had been _pretending_...?

"I was pretending because I needed some clarity," Jerome went on.

"Clarity..."

"Like I said, I've been just as confused as you, ever since that day back at Arkham. It is _difficult..._ to accept what is so clear, wouldn't you agree?" Jerome questioned, studying her. Amelia was unable to look at him, though they were still in close proximity. All this frustration and anger, it was because she didn't want to allow him in. Even when it _was_ clear they each felt the same. It was too risky. Jerome was a lunatic, who had already toyed with her emotions. She couldn't trust him, even when she knew his toying was merely a product of his own defenses.

"I..." Amelia began, struggling to get the proper words out. "I know what's there," she said, quietly. "It's just... hard. Especially when you _mess_ with me," her eyes at last turned to him and they were full of disappointment and to Jerome's surprise, were sheening with a thin film of tears. _That_ lookin particular tore him up, and it showed on his face.

All this toying, all this hiding... perhaps it was best to cut to the chase now. Jerome never thought it possible for someone to grow on him this much, as Amelia had. And yet, there he was. "Then I suppose I should just cut to the chase then, huh?" Jerome shifted, and before Amelia could so much as think a single thought, lips pressed firmly to hers. All she could feel in that moment was a tide of emotion; namely utter shock and relief all at once. Her heart was thrumming loud in her ears and all she could feel was her blood rushing madly in her veins, and those rough lips. Amelia didn't move, didn't draw him into her, nor push him away. Jerome's own mind was reeling. The discussion alone was difficult for him, and at this point he was acting on sheer instinct. Though when he felt that Amelia had locked up, he made no move to push the envelope further. Lips lingered for a few long moments, his eyes slipping shut as his mind swam around in this foreign, yet plesant, haze. Then, he broke the kiss and was standing. "In time, you will see, my little witch. I may be no white knight," a soft cackle drifted from him, _"far_ from it... but no games will be played any longer. My personal guarantee, sealed with a kiss," he bowed to her theatrically, and then was gone.


	9. Muddled

Verdant eyes stared at the closed door, unblinking and doused with shock. Despite Jerome's actions, as well as his words, Amelia would not budge. She would _not_ let him in. Even so, the kiss he'd left her with, with those rough and soft lips all at once was still somehow lingering like a burning ghost. Even when she moved to meditate, to steady her mind, all she could see was his face etched with that maniacal grin. Growling loudly, nearly screaming, Amelia swung her fist in blind rage, breaking the mirror in front of her. She _hated_ herself for being so weak...

 _-The following night-_

Amelia had been trying her best to keep occupied, as well as stay _away_ from Jerome and his hideaway. This night in particular, she chose to get dressed up and head over to The Sirens Club. It had been a few weeks since she paid the club and it's hosts a visit. Barbara took kindly to Amelia, for the most part, and somehow Amelia wondered if this was because she might plan to ask for her help at some point. Amelia was gaining more of a name for herself since joining forces with Jerome, and it came with it's perks. She figured she wouldn't mind working for others, as long as it didn't interfere with any of Jerome's plans nor her own. Even with their strange new... dynamic... and how much it frustrated her, Amelia was loyal at heart. She entered the darkly lit night club, dolled up with her raven hair in short vintage waves that framed her face elegantly, as well as a very dark blue-green dress. It was sleeveless, sparkly and had a skirt that stretched right below her knees in Gothic-fairy-esque jagged layers. On her legs were lacy fishnet stockings and long combat boots.

"Looking sharp, Hex Girl," Barbara greeted upon spotting Amelia at the entrance and making her way over. "Targeting any unfortunate souls tonight?" The blonde questioned, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"It would have been fun to," Amelia sent on, "but, not tonight. I've just come to get my mind off of some shit," she admitted.

"You've come to the right place," Barbara motioned to the bar then. "Knock yourself out. And by the way... I've got no issue with you coming around, just... don't bring that _freak_ Valeska around, okay?" Something flashed in Barbara's eyes threateningly. The woman was strong, and _could_ be frightening indeed, nearly matching Amelia's own violent temper from stories she'd heard and some slight witnessing. Though, she didn't frighten Amelia in the slightest.

Amelia laughed loudly, in fact. "Oh _God,_ why the hell would I do that?"

"Just a precaution. I know you two have joined forces. There were some rumors going around that you have a um... _fling_ with him," Barbara filled Amelia in on, looking a bit disgusted about it, though was trying to hide it.

Amelia's green eyes rolled almost into the back of her head. "Ugh... we don't. That's just what happens naturally when people see a guy and lady working together, I figure. People are stupid," Amelia was walking past Barbara now, bee-lining it for the bar. It seemed that no matter where she went, she just _had_ to be reminded of him. Perhaps drinking herself silly would help, for now. Amelia settled then with trying an array of different wines rather than mingling with anyone. She admitted she could be a bit of a loner, but she didn't usually mind it. As a buzz was creeping thickly over her, from across the room she spotted Selina Kyle, who had been eyeing her wearily. No doubt, because Amelia was a natural enemy. Though, Amelia paid her little mind and glanced away casually. Amelia wasn't there for trouble, just to unwind. Barbara was clearing away the stage now with Tabitha, and Amelia was so busy watching them and wondering what they were doing that the tap on her shoulder startled her to her feet.

Turning around swiftly, she was face to face with a young man clad in a dark red and black suit. His hair was dyed some dark shade of green, he had blue eyes and white face paint on as well as red lips. Amelia blinked, her vision the slightest bit fuzzy as she peered at him, noting now that she was very likely drunk. "What do you want?" She asked, steadying herself on the bar counter.

Jerome placed a hand on her waist to steady her, amused she hadn't seen through his guise. It was unusual and not exactly something he'd wear normally, which helped. The suit he wore currently was a lot... _stiffer_ than his typical flamboyant tastes. "Would you like to dance?" Jerome asked to her, though was already moving towards the small crowd of people on the dance floor. A haunting though slightly upbeat tune floated through the space as Amelia followed, a bit too drunk to fully realize what was going on. Dancing didn't sound too bad of an idea, which is the part she did catch.

"So," Jerome sent on as he swayed along with the music, a grin curling one corner of his red lips. "I was hoping last night didn't leave you in too much of a state..." he sent on, amused at the fact it obviously _had._ Amelia was looking a drunken and lovely mess and was clearly having a difficult time.

Amelia blinked, looking closer at the one she swayed along with, realizing she did recognize him. "Jero-?"

"Shh," Jerome placed a finger to her red lips to hush her, not wanting her to utter his name at such a place. One he certainly didn't belong in.

"How the hell did you manage to get in...?" Amelia asked, quieter now, getting the point.

"I'll be putting on a show, of sorts," he sent on. "But I am also here for other reasons. Funny, I didn't fully expect to run into you here..." he was moving then, mixing into the crowd with her, surprisingly fluid in his dancing. Amelia was in a bit of a stupor and had forgotten about her trusty steel wall. She danced along with him, their bodies brushing close to one another, almost sensually. It was _fun,_ and she realized that was one thing she enjoyed of Jerome most; he never failed to make her smile. As well as frustrate the living hell out of her, and somewhere buried in her stupor she was trying _so_ hard to pry away from him. When his hand rose to brush her hair softly, that little voice quieted however. "You know, I do think I may like you better drunk rather than sober and punching me in the face."

Amelia laughed, pushing him gently, playfully. "I don't know... I'd say you actually _enjoy_ pain."

"That's true," Jerome jested, taking her hand and kissing it as spot lights were flicked on by the stage. "There's my cue, ciao for now," he was whirling away now and making his way for the stage. Amelia stood a moment, watching as he sauntered off, dizzy and baffled by her own behavior.

"Please welcome our act for the night," Barbara announced into her microphone, motioning to the stage then as the spot lights turned onto the man in red standing atop. " _Jack Dagger."_

'Jack' bowed then, opening his coat to reveal knives tucked within; around 8 of them. Amelia wondered vaguely what this other reason for him sneaking into The Siren's Club was... and then her eyes scanned over the crowd and landed on a familiar face. Bruce Wayne had apparently arrived a little while ago, and was moving over and speaking to Selina. Amelia masked herself in the crowd, hand touching at the gun holstered on her leg underneath her dress. It would be best not to act too hastily, especially in her stupor, but she knew to keep on her toes.

'Jack' was then proceeding with his act, first juggling his knives expertly. The crowd roused and gasped softly, all a bit tense as they anticipated Jack to screw up and stab himself in the hand. Clapping erupted however as he finished his first act with ease, took a bow, and then moved onto the next. Some targets were placed along the stage in the shape of mannequin torsos. Jerome's eyes scanned the crowd, glinting in interest when he spotted his _real_ target out in the crowd. For now his usual demeanor was carefully concealed behind a more calm and calculating eye.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Selina murmured to Bruce as Jack hit his last target flawlessly and then was turning back to the applauding crowd.

"Why?" Bruce asked, eyebrows arching in concern.

"I saw Amelia in the club earlier," Selina clarified, urgently.

"Ah, but there is _one_ last target that awaits me," Jack announced suddenly, his blade glinting in the spotlight. "Hang onto your heads, folks!" A cackle flew from his lips then as he flung his knife towards Bruce. Selina was hauling him out of the way, Barbara looking over in disbelief as the scene had escalated so quickly. Screams rolled through the crowd as Jerome hopped off of the stage, prowling quickly after Bruce and Selina as the crowd dissipated around him and booked towards the exit. "You're not getting away so easily this time, _Brucey_!"

Amelia was fumbling after them, though was snatched up by Barbara as she tripped over her own feet. "I _told_ you not to let that _freak_ into my club!" Barbara growled to Amelia.

"Hey, I didn't plan this, okay?" Amelia insisted, shoving her off. Barbara directed Tabitha to haul Amelia out of the club anyway. Amelia struggled against her as Barbara followed them outside. "Let me go already!" Amelia spat, yanking her arms from Tabitha. "Like I said, I didn't plan that."

"It doesn't matter," Barbara concluded, blue eyes burning into the witch. "You're that freak's lap dog, aren't you?" She asked, through clenched teeth. "I should have never trusted you."

"Lap dog?" Amelia laughed in disbelief. "I'll make you regret making such a suggestion, little Queeney," Amelia mocked.

"Yeah, we'll see," Barbara countered.

" _I'm not afraid of you_!" Amelia shrieked.

"We should change that, shouldn't we?" Tabitha drew near, fire in her dark brown eyes, though Barbara stopped her. Tabitha was impulsive, but Barbara knew better than to push this too far.

"Drop it, Tabitha," Barbara urged through clenched teeth, then glanced to Amelia. "Fine, Hex Girl, we get the point. If I see him in here again, I _will_ have _both_ of your heads," and then, she was stalking off with Tabitha.

Amelia merely laughed, though it was a gleeful and almost maniacal sound. Earning a name for herself truly _did_ have perks. People _knew_ not to mess with her, and that pleased her.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur for Amelia. When she woke, she was back at her apartment on the couch. Pushing herself up, she rubbed her pounding head. "Ugh..." Eyes flicked over, and she spotted Jerome sitting near, in a dining chair, an ankle propped on his knee and idly sharpening one of his blades. "What are you doing here?"

Jerome laughed softly, not too surprised that Amelia's wall dropping back at the club had been short lived. "Was making sure my _compadre_ was still functional," Jerome said simply, still sharpening his blade.

"What happened with Bruce?" She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a bit embarrassed that she wasn't able to help out more.

"Ah," Jerome grumbled, rolling his eyes. " _Brat_ Wayne is a slippery slope. That won't stop me from trying again, however," He placed his blade away after a moment, glancing to her and then standing. "Now that I know you _are_ functional, I'll be off," the red head emitted. "Oh and uh, sorry about your sink."

" _What_ is wrong with it?" Amelia groaned, rubbing her eyes, too tired and hungover to be as angry as she could be.

"Had to wash out all that junk from my hair. _Man,_ was it a pain to get out. Your sink will probably be dyed green for... ahh, a while," he snickered, shrugged and then was out of the door. Amelia sighed, reaching for the glass of water that was apparently left on her end table and taking long chugs until not a drop was left. For a moment she thought about what had happened at the club, and was grumbling to herself when she realized she had danced with Jerome in the midst of her drunken state. She felt a bit stupid for it, but the frustration was beginning to fade. With how weak she now was, she could feel herself edging into potentially surrendering. It was difficult though and naturally she could feel herself recoil from that idea. Still, Jerome was not being too overbearing. It was odd, in a way, since she would have expected the maniac to be the type to be more forceful. Though, Jerome knew Amelia's past. He knew that in time, the little witch would either give in or forever hold that steel wall of hers. Perhaps, he might decide to force his way in if he had to. Though for now, only time would tell how this strange situation would pan out.


	10. Burn the Witch

_**Hey everyone! I just wanted to give a shout out to anyone who's been checking out Unhinged lately, to say thank you for viewing. I've still got some ideas I'd like to dabble in before I edge into the closing events for this story, so there will be plenty of chapters coming up. If you're enjoying this story please feel free to leave me a review. Suggestions for scenarios are also currently welcome if you'd like to make any, though will close once I'm getting closer to the end events. Thanks again, and hang onto your hats 'cause things will be getting interesting for our deadly duo~**_

Whistling echoed ominously through the bridge tunnel on this fateful night. The walls were dampened from several days of rain. Foot steps splashed faintly against the small, random puddles in the concrete ground. A gloved and bloodied hand reached, trailing crimson against the pale bridge walls, etching in a sloppy painting of a sinister, smiling face. A grin crept onto Jerome's lips as he turned to glance at the two followers he'd brought along with him for his most recent task. There was _nothing_ he relished more than witnessing his victims in utter agony. In recent days, he had gotten a bit side tracked with a task that ended up more drawn out than he would have preferred. It had to do with one of their suppliers _screwing_ around and trying to make things _difficult_ for the firey-haired psychopath. Things just never could be easy, it seemed, and Jerome mused that fact. It ended with a rather messy fight between the supplier, plus their trusty little guard dogs. Jerome had come out on top, mostly unscathed at that.

"You two have done well," Jerome acknowledged, tilting his head up a little to the followers before him. "Now that all of this _mumbo-jumbo_ has been taken care of, you've earned yourselves a _short_ vacation, hmm?" A tilt of his head, to which the followers grinned and nodded in agreement. "Good. Well, get out of my sight then," Jerome snapped, the followers growing rigid, flicking their eyes to one another and then scampering off back down the tunnel, enveloped into darkness as they cackled madly. A deep cackle moved from his lips as he watched the two hurry off into the night. It had been a few days since he'd heard from or seen Amelia, thus he turned on his heel and ventured towards her abode.

Once Jerome had reached Amelia's door, he gave a swift knock with two knuckles, waited around one second and then was peering inside. " _Peek-a-boo..."_ It was odd that Amelia would leave her door unlocked, thus he'd ventured into the apartment with his knife in his palm, eyes flicking around. Nothing really seemed to out of the ordinary... except it was strangely _silent._ Usually, upon entering Jerome might hear music playing, Amelia chanting or murmuring to her self as she often did... It was _dead_ silent. Jerome prowled quietly around the whole of the apartment, to which he found no one... Which was concerning. Swiftly, he flipped out his cell and tried dialing her. On the other end, her phone was dead and immediately went to voicemail. Jerome glanced at his phone for a moment, blinking and furrowing his brows. A knock at the door caught his attention, and then he heard it push open. Jerome hid from where he currently was in Amelia's bedroom, glancing slowly over to listen to who it might be. A grin was twitching onto his lips as he anticipated getting to toy with some more victims.

"Amelia...?" A female's voice called as they proceeded through the living room. A second pair of feet followed after the first then, and Jerome quirked a brow.

"Where do you think she could have gone?" Holly asked to Laura.

"Hold on a second," Laura motioned for Holly to pause, her dark eyes peering around. "Something doesn't seem right..." she narrowed her eyes as she moved, slowly, towards the bedroom now, taking a kitchen knife from the counter quietly as she did so.

" _Ha!_ " Jerome shifted from his hiding spot, to which the two witches gasped in slight shock.

" _Jesus,"_ Laura emitted. "You are far creepier in person, dude..." she breathed, patting her chest where her heart was racing. Jerome quirked a brow, glancing from Laura to Holly, and then back again.

"Ah... well this is awkward," Jerome murmured, knife still in hand.

"What have you done with Amelia?" Holly demanded, stepping forth, moving between Laura and Jerome. Laura looked to her sister in disapproval.

"Let me deal with him, Holly," Laura insisted to her blonde haired sister.

"Well?" Holly stepped closer to Jerome then, who had merely snickered. "Why is he laughing...?" Holly quipped to Laura, with an odd expression, her hazel eyes not leaving Jerome.

" _Done_ with her?" Jerome cackled. "The only reason I came here was because I was _looking_ for your sinister little sister..." he clarified, putting his hands up. Laura noted the blood stains on his hands and then stepped beside Holly to get closer to Jerome.

"Yeah? And what's all that mess about?" Laura asked, pointing to his gloves.

" _This?_ Well, I _am_ a busy guy... but I assure you, I would never lay a hand on my dear, little Amelia..." Jerome drawled slowly, grinning a bit.

Holly and Laura glanced at each other in unison. It was difficult to tell if he was lying, even for two intuitive witches. Amelia was the most in-tune of the three.

Laura held her blade close to Jerome, though she faltered. "We know you and Amelia have been working together," she sent on, admittedly a little intimidated by Jerome, though hid it decently. The taller, blonde and curly haired sister, Holly, seemed more obviously off put. It reminded Jerome of the time he'd gone to kill her boyfriend a while back and he almost laughed aloud at the memory. Those had been _good_ times... She hadn't mentioned this yet however, and Jerome assumed she'd realized by now how foolish she had been back then. "But that isn't to say you wouldn't kill her yourself. You're... unpredictable," Laura's brown eyes burned into the maniac's from behind her dark bangs.

Jerome cackled a little as her blade was placed closer to his neck. " _Kill_ Amelia? Her and I are best buds, _compadres..._ I wouldn't _dare_ do such a _vile_ thing..." his voice was low, his eyes sinister and mocking, though he was only toying with the sisters, of course.

"Holly, look inside of your crystal ball to figure out if he's telling the truth. Have it show you Amelia," Laura instructed to her sister hastily. Holly obliged, fetching the ball from the bedroom closet and setting it on a night stand near the other two. Jerome's eyes turned to look curiously over as Holly motioned her hands over the ball, craning his neck a little to see what the image would show.

"Oh my God," Holly gasped, a hand clasped over her mouth at the image that emerged. Amelia was knocked out and bound to a vertically-placed metal table, her wrists and feet bound and a muzzle over her mouth. Hazel, tear-rimmed eyes flicked to Jerome. " _What_ did you do?!"

Jerome however was peering wide eyed at the orb, all sounds around him drowned out as rage boiled over within him in a way he had _never_ experienced. He moved abruptly from Laura's hold on him to peer at the orb in sheer incredulity and rage. " _Tell me..._ there is a way to find out who is behind this," Jerome's eyes were wild as he pointed to the orb, and then his eyes squeezed shut as a _jarring_ amount of anger threatened to explode out of him. He could not allow it, there wasn't much time it seemed... they needed to figure out what had happened to her.

Holly wiped her eyes, looking to Laura then. Laura glanced from the orb and to Jerome. Hand shaking, she placed her blade away when she clearly sensed the sincerity in Jerome's anger. Laura didn't know how to feel about it, but she sensed that Jerome loved Amelia. It would explain how his jestful demeanor and entirely shifted.

"We have to try," Laura sent on to Holly, who looked utterly conflicted as she peered at Jerome, who was clutching at his hair, trying his best to keep calm. "He's obviously effected by this, he isn't faking," Laura said quietly to her sister as she leaned closer. Laura took a seat then near the orb and proceeded to chant with Holly. Jerome drifted over, chewing uneasily at the skin of his thumb as he watched to see what might appear in the orb.

Soon, a figure came into view in the scene, Jerome leaning closer. "Who the _hell_ are you?" he growled viciously, hands clutching at the orb as he gazed into it with wide eyes.

 _-Meanwhile-_

Everything came in a blur. Amelia's head was spinning momentarily, and she blinked slowly as her vision proceeded to clear gradually. The room she was in was unfamiliar and she tried to move, though couldn't. Thrashing a bit, she struggled against the bindings at her wrists and ankles. Then she thrashed _harder,_ and tried to scream though the sound was muffled. Amelia struggled and struggled, thrashing violently, until the bindings cut into her skin. Growling and thrashing, she tried a moment longer before the pain and defeat got the better of her. She halted, slumping a bit as she tried to catch her breath. "Who ever has done this is going to feel my _wrath,"_ she hissed against the annoying muzzle at her mouth.

"I see you're finally awake. For being so 'dangerous', you were surprisingly easy to steal," a figure emerged into the room she was in; which looked to be a barren basement. To Amelia's frustration, the figure was wearing a stitched together black mask and a black hoody. Amelia shouted something unintelligible. The figure moved a hand, shifting her muzzle off to hear what she might have to say. He knew he was safe as long as Amelia couldn't see his face, which pissed her off entirely.

"Who the hell are you?! I _swear_ I will _rip your heart out!"_

The figure snickered. "Just as feisty as ever..." he murmured. Amelia stared at him, green eyes wide and full to the brim firey wrath. The words he spoke however indicated that he knew her somehow.

"What the _fuck_ do you want," Amelia demanded, tone deepening into a bitter and sinister growl.

The figure paced a little in front of her. "You could say... that it is high time we _burn_ the witch..." he said, looking at her now.

Amelia glared bitterly at him, though realized she knew that voice...

"But first, I had to ensure that you had no tools nor a face at your disposal to cast any of those _pesky_ little spells on. I plan on relishing every moment of breaking down your psyche to render you utterly helpless..." he went on, Amelia's eyes flicking venomously over him to observe him. He moved then, inching closely to drag a blade he wielded across her forearm before driving it into her. Amelia wailed, squeezing her eyes shut. Her mind was bombarded with nothing but this piercing pain now, and she wondered faintly how Jerome did it... _how_ was he able to laugh like a madman when someone harmed him? She really could use that skill now, seeing as she might need it.

"Don't worry, that's only the start," the masked figure assured to her as he pulled away now, leaving the blade pinning her arm to the table. Amelia moved to try and _bite_ her way through that stupid mask, to which he merely shifted away and chuckled. "I know _exactly_ how to damage you, just you wait..."

Amelia winced a bit at the stabbing pain in her arm. Though the chuckle that moved from this _damned_ man was familiar to her. Everything made sense, when she realized she knew who this was. Amelia glared bitterly at him. "All this trouble... for a _piece of shit_ brother like yours?" It was Eric, her ex's elder brother... she supposed she should have anticipated his pathetic family might go after her eventually. It was stupid, how they sided with a manipulator and rapist. "I guess this means that the shit he did and the pain he caused all look like _child's play,_ next to the one who _tore him to pieces..._ huh?" Amelia taunted, remorseless green eyes glaring deep into Eric's eyes.

"Always quick to put the pieces together," Eric acknowledged, though sent his fist flying into Amelia's face the next moment. Amelia allowed that pain to rattle her and then slowly fade. She tried to trick her mind into relishing or at least _tolerate_ it, so that he could not get to her as easily. He was moving to hit her again, before the door to the basement opened and one of his masked companions motioned for him to come upstairs. "Let's finish this soon," Eric sent on, placed her muzzle back onto her, and disappeared up the rickety basement steps.

 _-Back at Amelia's apartment-_

Jerome had had _enough_ of watching that all pan out. The image in the orb fell away as he turned to punch his fist hard against the wall. "So they decided to be _wise guys_ and hide behind masks like a bunch of _cowards?"_ Valeska spat through clenched teeth. Laura and Holly seemed just as defeated and were disappointed in themselves in fact. Despite Amelia's loyalty to a lunatic, she was still their _sister_ and they had turned their backs on her... _"_ It's ironic, isn't it?" Jerome turned to the tense looking sisters then. "You know, how you two _ditch_ your sister and decide to come crawling back, just in time for _this_ load of _shit_ to happen."

" _Shut up,"_ Laura got in his face then, anger bursting out of her at having such things _shoved_ in her face.

Jerome cackled, though it died away in an instant and was replaced again by that look of sheer fury.

" _Guys!"_ Holly interjected. "This seriously is not the time to be fighting, okay? We need to figure out a way to get to Amelia, and the best way to do that is together."

"And how the hell are supposed to do that, when we've got no idea _where_ Amelia is?!" Laura countered, and then huffed.

"I realize we're all frustrated and panicked right now, but if we calm down, I'm sure we can think up a spell that will help," Holly offer, shakily though was still hopeful.

 _-Meanwhile-_

Eyes drifted shut as Amelia watched the door shut, ensuring that _snake_ Eric had left. A sigh moved past her, her dark tufts of short hair falling around her face as she slumped. Amelia's mind drifted back over the argument that ensued previously, carefully tracing over each word that had been spoken. There had to be some sort of loop hole... Her mind also drifted to her sisters, to Jerome... Though she refused to think that this was the end of the line for her. Amelia did not want to die. She wanted to _live_ and to sow chaos as she saw fit, and when she was done, perhaps her own legacy would remain.

Amelia recalled Eric's mention of breaking her mentality. It occurred to her then that he didn't have a chance to just yet, and then an image came into her head; that of the smokey ghoulish spirit that paid her a visit back at Arkham... It clicked then, and she realized how she would, hopefully, get out of this predicament.


	11. Seeing Red

The madman's frantic pacing halted as a peculiar sensation rose within him. Jerome's vision blurred, and initially he chalked this up to him having the worst panic attack he'd had in years. In his mind however, he could see a dark flock of what looked to be soft ashes. The ashes whirled, rushing past his face in an overwhelming gust, forming into what he would have described to be a demon's face. It was dark and shifted around softly, it's eyes a piercing red. The vision scared Jerome almost half to death, and _that_ was saying something. Vaguely he wondered what was happening, though had assumed this to be some abrupt manifestation of his sins. The being spoke then, the words forming within Jerome's mind in a rolling, heavy and slow tone that vibrated within his chest. _'The one you seek has summoned me... With your concurrence, I will overtake your body and mind, and guide you to her...'_

Jerome blinked, eyes locked onto the spirit. _Amelia_ had summoned this creature? He did recall her mentions of her work going beyond the physical world, and also knew Amelia had delved into her dark side. What he wasn't aware of, was that it went _this_ far. Hazel eyes gleamed in intrigue, a crooked smirk forming on his lips, and then he opened his arms. "Be my guest," Jerome affirmed. The sensation from earlier washed over him, stronger now, like a dark tide as the spirit absorbed itself into him. The force of it had knocked him over onto his back.

From where Holly and Laura were, they moved when Jerome had toppled over and went into a brief seizure. "We can't afford to be stressing _this_ much! Oh, crap," Laura's voice rang in incredulity as she motioned, but was unsure how to help him. Jerome rose to his feet soon enough however, looking to the sisters as his eyes glowed for a moment in a red hue. "Are you okay?" Laura questioned, speaking slowly and raising an eyebrow.

A devilish smirk grew upon Jerome's lips. "Never better," he assured. "C'mon, I know where Amelia is," he was moving then to the door, body moving on its own as the spirit guided him. Laura and Holly hesitated, though trailed behind him, out of the apartment door and down the steps of the complex.

Laura leaned to Holly as they made their way outside now, the sky above bright grey and entirely masked in thin clouds. "Do you think he's...?"

"No doubt about it," Holly sent on quietly to her sister, knowing for sure that Jerome was possessed currently. "Amelia always did vow to get good enough to summon spirits. If he really knows where she is so suddenly, this must be a product of that..."

"Holy shit," Laura breathed out in disbelief, nearly forgetting how powerful Amelia was. Her brown eyes gazed off into the distance, before she fetched her keys and unlocked her black car.

 _-Meanwhile-_

Once the spirit had drifted from her mind, Amelia smirked from behind her black muzzle. She'd indeed recalled the time that spirit paid her a visit back at Arkham, and it seemed her little loophole had worked. It was only a matter of time now before she would finally get out of this mess. Only a few more moments passed before Eric was trudging back down the basement steps, this time with a slender wooden box in his hands, closed with a metal clasp. Amelia assumed that the box held whatever devices he planned on torturing her with.

Eric placed the box on a small metal work table near Amelia, flipping it open to reveal an array of hand held weapons. Scanning over them, he chose one resembling a Japanese sai. Amelia's green eyes burned into him, glaring bitterly.

"Now, where were we..." Eric sent on as he inched closer, his rubber boots squeaking slightly with each step, to Amelia's annoyance. "I will be making this as slow as possible. You deserve to _suffer_ for the things that you do..." his arm moved then, and he'd plunged the sai into her leg. Amelia's eyes snapped shut as pain surged through her thigh, though she attempted to _feel_ the pain rather than resist it. She was trying to trick her mind into accepting the sensations. The stabbing and burning sensation radiated from the spot he'd targeted. Rather than scream, Amelia smiled and a loud _laugh_ moved past her smeared red lips. Eric removed the sai, then sending it into her stomach.

Pain tore itself into her mind, though Amelia erupted into more laughter, the sound more maniacal than the last. Amelia _refused_ to allow him to see her in agony. She could feel Eric _scowl_ in vexation from behind his mask. He removed the blood stained sai, placing it back in it's box, though his pale eyes didn't leave the witch. "That partner of yours has twisted you up a good deal. That won't do. You need to be eliminated," Eric concluded as his eyes drove into hers. He was waspish, and that couldn't help but amuse Amelia. "It looks like I'll need to be using the other method I had in store. I _was_ going to save the best for last..." Eric almost purred, seeming pleased to be able to go through with his next plan. Something in his demeanor shifted however, and it sent a dark cloud over Amelia. Her expression dropped as Eric edged closely; far _too_ close now. "I know the _perfect_ way to tear your mind apart and make your life a living hell as you have made mine," Eric growled and then was reaching to practically _rip_ her trousers off.

" _No!"_ Amelia shrieked, panic coursing through her veins like icy splinters. She _thrashed_ against her bindings, the metal cusps digging into the wounds she'd already formed previously, deepening them. " _Stop!"_ Amelia screamed at the top of her lungs, urging Jerome to _hurry_ in her mind. Tears jumped from eyes as she thrashed violently. Even if it meant leaving without her hands and feet, she needed to _get out of there._ She could trick herself all she wanted into enduring any torture. But surely she could not endure _that..._

Outside, Laura's black car skidded up into the drive way of an abandoned home essentially in the middle of nowhere. Each of the exited, trudging through the grass, a gun in each of their hands. _'The one holding her captive is of the same blood as her previous lover,'_ the spirit sent on, before it exited Jerome in a soft rush. At this point, he didn't even need such a spirit to drive his fury. Sending his foot sailing into the front door of the home, Jerome crashed through it in one blow. He was _seething._ Inside they were greeted with two masked men, armed and ready for a fight. Laura and Holly took cover with some furniture as they targeted one of the men near the kitchen while Jerome took the one that stood closer to the door leading into the cellar. The red headed lunatic moved with fluidity, having literally dodged a bullet. He grasped the masked man's arm, twisting and fracturing it, and then his hand shot out to grab his neck so fast and hard that it'd effectively crushed part of the bones there. " _Your little friend is in for a treat,"_ Jerome hissed, into the man's ear, before hauling him away and blasting him in the head with his shot gun. Holly and Laura were close behind as he ventured into the basement now, having taken care of their other target.

The sight Jerome had been greeted with had him literally seeing _red._ Eric had yanked his trouser's around his ankles and was inches from scarring Amelia _all over again._ Hazel eyes were wild with fury as he marched straight for his target, hankering to rip him to shreds. Eric had been taken off guard and during his fumbling to get his pants back around his waist, Jerome's hand was reaching for his face as he _ripped_ that pathetic mask off.

" _You_ my friend have made a _vital_ mistake," Jerome growled, his tone deep, dark and dripping with venom. All that usual jestfulness had entirely fallen away now, as Jerome's demeanor was replaced by an atrocious monster, hungry to kill. Holly and Laura stood near, two guns pointed at Eric and ready to fire if need be. "Get a good look, girls," Jerome snarled to the sisters behind him, eyes not once leaving Eric's face. " _Tell me..._ there is a spell directed at families... After I'm through with you, I don't want to _see_ nor _hear_ from anyone who shares your blood _ever again,"_ Jerome shifted, driving his dagger into Eric's stomach, ripping a jagged blood red crescent into his stomach in a long stroke. Eric lurched as blood spilled from his abdomen, covering the whole of Jerome's forearm. A sinister grin was twitching it's way onto Jerome's lips, his eyes wild and overflowing with red-hot rage. Eric shifted, kicking Jerome as soon as he saw an opportunity to.

Amelia meanwhile watched, Holly moved near to assist her in getting her trousers back on, though the blonde's eyes didn't leave Eric. He was lunging towards a wooden box on a table near her, to which Holly picked it up and then kicked it, sending it skidding across the floor and to Jerome. Before Eric could get to Holly, Jerome flung a few weapons in quick succession. One flew through Eric's shoulder, pinning him against the cellar wall. Another han pinned a hand, and the other plunged right between his ribs. Jerome neared Eric, prowling swiftly as Holly shifted to stand with Laura, nodding to her. The spirit had planted small seeds of knowledge into their minds, filling them in on who Eric was.

"What's the _rush?"_ Jerome asked to Eric, who wailed as Jerome gave the blade between his ribs a firm and ruthless _twist._ From behind him, ominous chanting drifted through the space.

"Shut up, _freak..."_ Eric managed, blood pooling out of his mouth as he glared at Jerome. "You'll all _pay... Ack!"_ Jerome shut him up by _ripping_ the knife in his torso out. The chanting drew on.

 _'Those who share his blood will meet a horrid fate,_

 _Forever shall they shift through Hell's gate...'_

Jerome moved again, hand rising high above his head as he gouged each of Eric's eyes mercilessly out of his head. Amelia watched from her place bound as this all played out, eyes wide and streaked with thick black eyeliner from her tears. She was in awe, and hadn't even expected for her sisters to have shown up... the rage that Jerome displayed as so potent, unlike anything she'd ever seen. And it was all to _save_ her...?

Eric's screams blared in Jerome's ears, and the sound made the ginger grin in lunacy. "The sound of your screams is like music to my ears... Oh, don't look so glum, _pal,"_ Jerome was moving again, placing the blade in his grasp at the corner of Eric's mouth to carve a slow, long _smile_ into his face. Eric writhed, though everything around him was slipping away now... "We're all so _thrilled_ to see you torn to pieces," Jerome hissed each word out, baring his teeth as a feral cackle fled from his lips.

Amelia watched, all the way until the end as Eric's body slumped to the ground in a pool of blood. Holly and Laura moved then to unbind her. Everything was a blur, Amelia's mind having been assaulted with so much fear. She hated to be seen in such a weak state, though the only people that could get away with witnessing her like that would have been the three in the room with her. All she could do was bawl her eyes out now as her sisters hugged her tightly.

 _-Two days later-_

Laura and Holly were exiting the hospital, nodding to Jerome who entered next. He wore a guise, since it would have been difficult for him to get inside otherwise. He seemed oddly solemn, and held a bundle of black roses in his hands. Sitting near Amelia, who rested, he stared at the flowers in his hands for a long moment. It was difficult for him to do something so sentiment, but something within him was shifting, albeit slightly. When it came to her, least. Having seen Amelia so close to being taken advantage of sent him over the edge, broke him in a way he had never been broken. In other ways, he was shattered, driven to lunacy. Those events however brought out a whole new type of fire, and proved to him he could genuinely be a _monster._ Even more of a monster than he'd already initially thought. It went to show... he truly did have feelings for the dark haired beauty sleeping near him in the pale hospital bed. It was peculiar, and confusing, but he was learning to accept it.

Amelia's eyes were heavy as they opened. She would have been the type to reject going to a hospital, but her mind had been so effected and her body needed to heal. Her sisters had driven her there a couple of days ago, and Amelia was the most numb they had seen her in a long while. Her sisters promised not to disappear again, after that.

"A trooper, as always," Jerome sent on, placing the roses on the window sill near Amelia, where she could see them. Amelia didn't say anything at first, merely stared at the beautiful bouquet. Her mind however trailed to the way Jerome looked when he murdered Eric. That _fire_ in his eyes, all due to someone hurting her. It made her heart swell... and even now, after everything, she wanted to push him away. To tell him to take those flowers and get the hell out. But, she couldn't bring herself to do that. Not now.

A hot tear rolled down Amelia's pale cheek, eyes still on the black roses, the very ones she preferred. "...Thanks," she said, in a soft whisper.


	12. Surrender

The butter knife chimed against the polished glass. Jerome cleared his throat from where he sat, at the head of the table. "Attention, attention please," he announced, inclining to his guests a little. Eyes glanced to him them, belonging to the top players in the Legion of Horribles; Dr. Freeze, Firefly, Mad Hatter, Scarecrow and their host, The Penguin. Hex Girl was present as well, having taken a spot opposite Jerome at the other head of the table. She wore a black and red corset-type top with thin straps over her shoulders, a choker with a red gem dangling from it, a frayed skirt, black and white leggings and her favored combat boots.

"I would like to first thank you all for being here," Jerome rose his glass, grinning a wicked little grin to them all. "I would _especially_ like to thank 'ol Penguin here for hosting this little shindig," eyes glanced to Penguin. Amelia mused silently as she noted how uneasy Penguin looked, sniffing at her drink and then taking some sips. She still wouldn't mind squashing his annoying little head, though was behaving for now.

"So, what exactly is the _point_ of this meeting again...? Besides establishing your Legion, of course," Penguin stammered, trying his _hardest_ not to come off too insolently, though it was not easy for him in the presence of, well, _Jerome Valeska._

"Ah, that is the point, I guess," Jerome sent on with a shrug, Penguin blinking in a way that told of his perplexity as well as his impatience. Amelia stood.

"We've gathered here today to _acquaint_ ourselves, of course," Amelia clarified, green eyes flicking over the infamous criminals sitting at the long, cherry wood table. "I'm honestly thrilled to finally meet all of you. It is _best_ that we all work together, isn't it?" There were some soft rouses and murmurs of agreement then. Penguin rolled his eyes.

"Yes indeed, it is best to take heed... of one another," Mad Hatter sent on with a few nods as his eyes glanced to everyone momentarily, flashing his big teeth as he grinned. Then, he winked to Amelia. Amelia took the olive from her martini's tooth pick and _chunked_ it into his eye, to which Hatter yelped and then glared at her. Jerome cackled softly, silently adoring Amelia's charm.

Amelia cleared her throat. "As one of the newest additions to this Legion, I look forward to _reaping_ chaos as it suits us," she said, the others rousing a little more in their assent.

"We're gonna paint this city _crazy,"_ Jerome agreed, grinning darkly as he tapped his fingers together.

"You're speaking my language," Firefly agreed with a pleased grin.

" _Ah,_ " Jerome suddenly smacked the table. "Before I forget, Hex Girl here would like to introduce a couple of our _other_ newest additions..." From two double doors off to the right, Holly and Laura walked through, walking in sync with one another. "Hex Girl's trusty sidekicks, no doubt..."

Laura looked to Amelia as she spoke. "We look forward to being a part of things, but will have you know that we will mostly be working from the shadows."

Holly looked to the others then, who gazed over curiously, seemingly not knowing that there were other witches in Gotham. "After some discussion, Holly and I decided that this would our dynamic, since Jerome and Amelia," _ahem,_ "Hex Girl, have established themselves as the face of this Legion. If any of you all would be in need of a hex, don't hesitate to give us a call," Holly grinned then, a sinister little grin of her own. Amelia laughed in glee, clapping her hands together, thrilled to have her sisters back. And they were now _just_ where they belonged, as dangerous additions to the dark side of Gotham...

 _-That night-_

Amelia was at her apartment, taking some time to relax as she and Holly spruced up a bit, while Laura was of course spending the night at her boyfriend's home. She was glad that they were back, things felt a bit more normal now which was a tad bizarre. Her life had taken some twists and turns recently, some that had pushed her to her limit... Amelia was in a better place now, and she felt _alive._ Though she was aware there was still that part of her that lingered, that part that still desperately held up her steel wall. Perhaps, she was just more comfortable this way... perhaps, it really was best to stay friends and partners in crime with Jerome. No pressure whatsoever.

She and Holly finished their cleaning off with placing some lit candles in a few areas and some large healing crystals to accent as extra décor. Holly knew Amelia could use all the healing she could get, especially after everything that ensued. Holly and Laura had admittedly begun leaning more into their dark sides, Holly especially due to the turmoil she had to plow through following Marcus's death. The truth was, ever since the sisters were young, they had a mischievousness about them, and working for the dark side was fitting for them. It would especially reap in some decent money, and perhaps they could all even eventually get a nice, big house.

Two slow knocks sounded at the door then, Holly moving first to peep and see who it was. She opened the door then, and Amelia glanced over to see that it was in fact Jerome. He nodded to Holly a bit, who was trying to get used to him lately but still always looked so hesitant in his presence. He intimidated her, and Jerome found it a bit funny. He would've messed with her because of it, though because she was connected to Amelia, he tried his best not to.

"I'll give you two a moment," Holly smirked gently as she scurried off to her room. Amelia narrowed her eyes as she gazed after her, not liking that she'd been teasing Amelia at times about their relationship status. She'd told Holly _not_ to do that, but her sister could be a gnat at times.

"What's up?" Amelia questioned, looking to Jerome momentarily as she moved into the kitchen. "Hungry?" She asked, though was already throwing a baked muffin towards him that she and Holly made earlier. Jerome caught it, looked at it, and then looked at her as she went into her fridge to heat up some left overs.

"I've come partly to discuss some things, and partly... well, just 'cause," Jerome smirked, looking back to the muffin in his hand and taking a chomp out of it. " _Ooh,_ that is delicious," he sent on, with his mouth full before swallowing his bite. Amelia chuckled, then leaned against the kitchen counters as she took some bites of her turkey and stuffing. "Anyway, obviously some things came up recently. But it's almost time to seek out dear brother," Jerome said as he edged a little closer to Amelia, placing his muffin down for the moment.

"Ah, I was wondering when we'd get to search for that little weasel," Amelia said in interest.

"I'm sure you have. It will be a pivotal moment, indeed. Plucking off my family members has been an interesting and _very_ necessary ride," he hummed a little as he glanced around her kitchen. It looked mostly normal, save for some baskets and containers full of various herbs, potions and other witchy things. Jerome noted the bouquet of flowers he'd given her on the window sill, in a clear vase, still all perfectly in tact.

Amelia nodded then to his words, finishing off her plate and placing it on the counter. She remembered his stories of his retched family, and she enjoyed assisting him in targeting them, knowing it was important to him. As was the Legion, and eliminating Bruce Wayne. "Yup," Amelia agreed. "So, what's the plan for when we do go check out St. Ignacious?"

"I may have to pull some strings, you know how people get in my presence... all _panicky_ and _fumbly,"_ he cackled softly. "Can't really blame 'em, I figure. I thought it would be beneficial to have your help, and perhaps Hatter's as well," he grumbled the name, still not liking the fact the man always insisted on flirting with Amelia. It was perhaps because he knew they weren't actually an item, since Amelia always held up that pesky wall of hers... at the moment, she was a bit hard to read in that regard. The witch seemed more at ease now, with her sisters around and all. Thus, he couldn't tell if her demeanor was just a product of that, or if perhaps she was finally surrendering.

Amelia looked to the floor, falling quiet a moment, and then chuckled a bit. "You always get so bent out of shape around him," she commented, turning to Jerome with a sportive grin, teasing him.

"Just as _you_ got bent out of shape when I faked fawning after that little gadfly, Selina," Jerome countered, raising his brows a bit. Amelia whacked him on the arm, to which he merely laughed. The sound died quickly, however and was replaced with a keen look. "As I said before... can we really keep denying what is so obviously present...?" He asked, grin falling away as he edged closer now, so that he was only a foot away from the dark haired witch. Jerome stared at her, even as she looked away, drinking in her intoxicating beauty, her splay of soft feathery spikes of hair, like a dark pixie. Jerome truly relished her eyes especially, they always had this way of looking _utterly_ vigorous.

Amelia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "There _is_ nothing there," she lied, murmuring, though as she felt those wily hazel eyes on her, her face began to warm. Seeing Jerome murder Eric had made her finally see what she meant to him. Nothing had to be pointed out clearly in words, necessarily... seeing him get like that spoke for itself. And they both seemed okay with that.

"Really...?" Jerome tilted his head, voice a low purr, inclining closer to her now, his head dipping a little so that their faces were closer; Amelia being a few inches shorter than him. Amelia turned, glaring at him. Though the fire he knew she had within her was not nearly as strong as Jerome knew it was. It wasn't because it had died, it was because Amelia _knew_ she no longer held such strong defenses. The didn't mean she wouldn't choose to be difficult, however. For a moment, they stared at each other, Jerome's eyes intent and Amelia's glaring unconvincingly. Truthfully Amelia was finding it so much harder to resist Jerome now, especially after that day... in fact she'd _always_ been drawn to him, though was in such deep denial. It was safer that way, even if more frustrating. She crossed her arms, about to say something to counter him, though Jerome moved, a hand _roughly_ clutching her slender waist and his other grasping at the back of her neck. Before the Gothic witch could say anything at all, Jerome pressed his lips roughly to hers, fervently and hungrily.

Despite the blockages she placed so firmly all this time, Amelia allowed these sensations in now... her defenses had entirely crumbled as Jerome leaned into her, kissing her hotly and almost frantically. Amelia momentarily, unconsciously tried to shift away, knocking some pans and utensils onto the floor with a loud _clatter._ Jerome made his decision however, he would _force_ his way through to her. His hunger for Amelia could no longer be ignored and thrown aside. Jerome held her tighter, edging her firmly against kitchen counter. From around the corner, unseen, Holly peeked over when she'd heard that clatter, giggling as she caught sight of the scene in the kitchen and then slipped back into her room.

Jerome's hand grasped at Amelia's inky and silky soft hair as his tongue pried her red lips apart. Tongue delved within the heat of her mouth, finding hers and wrestling it roughly. Amelia panted, her mind spinning so madly against these waves of potent emotion, her pale arms wrapping around Jerome's shoulders and grasping at his red hair. In that moment, she fully allowed her walls to fall away and it came as a bit of a relief. All of the resistance she had towards this had conjured up an _immense_ amount of tension.

The kiss was by far the most passionate she'd had in her life; as frenzied and intense as Valeska himself. Jerome's actions still proved to her just how much she meant to him. She didn't understand it... but at last, she accepted it. Amelia pressed into Jerome, relishing the feel of his arms encasing her, fingers pressing against his scalp as she returned his kiss more fervently now, her tongue fighting for dominance against his. A groan—growl?—rose from Jerome's throat, faintly, as he realized just how heated and pent up he'd gotten over time... The maniac realized now just how _badly_ he desired Amelia. He'd broken the kiss, hazel eyes gazing for a moment into hers with a look that clearly told Amelia just how much he'd been _itching_ for this moment. A look of sheer, _raving_ desire. Shortly after he'd moved to bite firmly at the skin of her neck, the front door opened, and then closed.

Jerome shifted away, slowly, a hungry little smirk on his lips as he stared into Amelia's green, almost helpless eyes as if telling her he was only getting started. She blinked away her state however and shifted away from the counter top when Laura proceeded into the kitchen. Brown eyes flicked between Amelia and Jerome, Laura noting how Jerome's hair looked quite wacky and how Amelia adjusted her shifted around clothes. It certainly looked like the aftermath of... _something._

"Uh..." Laura stammered.

"What?" Jerome quipped. "We were just ah... plotting, and whatnot..."

"Uh _huh..."_ Laura sent on with a knowing little smirk. She blinked a little, admittedly caught off guard by that and thinking Amelia to have some strange tastes. "Anyway, it's a good thing I caught you here, dude... I've got a favor to ask of you two. It's pretty important," her tone was frantic now. Amelia nodded, leading Jerome and Laura into the living room then. Truthfully, she was a little relieved that Laura had interrupted. Not because she didn't relish that heated moment, she was still just a bit squirmy when it came to a male dominating her like that... She likely would have pushed Jerome off after a moment, if it had gone any further. Intimacy was something she did struggle with, after all.

Laura sat with Amelia, while Jerome settled with adjusting his hair in a mirror on the wall near them, before standing near to listen. "So, what can we do you for?" he asked.

"Amelia is aware that I took up a job working for Evan Todd's fashion line previously, editing the layouts for their magazines and shit," Laura explained. "He's been ripping me off."

"How?" Amelia furrowed her brows, thinking about how she always thought Evan Todd seemed a bit sketchy. Amelia didn't know why she had worked for him.

Laura pulled something out of the bag she sometimes carried, one of Evan Todd's magazines with one of her covers on it. "Look," she pointed to some text on the lower left corner, reading _'Spreadsheet design by Clair Hutchinson'._

"He's been allowing someone else to take credit for your work?" Amelia asked, looking pissed now.

"It doesn't stop there, I found out that he's paying this new editor _double_ what he had paid me, to do that same freaking job."

"I _wonder_ how she got that deal..." Jerome jested, Amelia rolling her eyes at him though snickering.

"While I _could_ cast some spell work, I thought it would be better to leave it in your hands," Laura motioned to Jerome and Amelia. "It would just... be hilarious for you two to drive his business into ground. They're going to be going to some work gathering at an event center in town. I hear their looking to hire some entertainment... I hear everyone involved in Evan's fashion industry will be there; the models, editors and designers and Evan of course."

"Entertainment, you say?" Jerome stepped near, stroking his chin and grinning fiendishly, a glint in his eye as the perfect plan bloomed in his sinister mind. "Oh, they'll be getting entertainment, all right. You _won't_ be disappointed, Miss Laura," Amelia and him then shared the same evil, scheming grin.


	13. Fashion Statement

Several people made their way into the event center this night, all dressed to impress in finely pressed suits or sparkling and elaborate gowns. The flock of people chattered to one another in anticipation for their big gathering, all courtesy of the the most renowned fashion designer in Gotham, Evan Todd. All made way through the event halls, up the elevators and to their party room. It was a fairly sizable space, with round dining tables draped in off-white covers. Pristine and sparkling decorations hung on the walls around the chandeliers, on the tables and in the corners of the space. In the midst of the room was a runway attached to the stage at the front of everything else. Evan was pleased with how things had been set out; it was certainly the perfect space for his gathering.

Once everyone was inside, Evan took his place on stage, microphone in hand. "Thank you everyone for being here, especially those who have flown in from the other states," a short applause chimed from the crowd, and died down slowly as Evan continued. "I am thrilled to be able to showcase some of my most recent designs, as well as set forth our game plan for the next several months. And of course, we'll be having fun while we're were," to that, the crowd applauded louder. "Without further to do, please sit back and relax, and enjoy the show," he smiled a moment, stepping off stage and then taking a seat over with some of his colleagues. Music then rolled out of the speakers mounted on the walls near the stage as his fashion show began.

In one section behind the stage, Amelia blanched. "Fashion shows are so pointless," she commented, rolling her large eyes.

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Jerome said from where he stood, prepping some of the tools he'd brought along for their show. "We will have our moment, and it'll certainly be _explosive_..." He in particular wore a guise; namely a suit with a checkered top and stripped under shirt, black pants, white shoes and a red and black cape. Jerome also donned a top hat to match his cape, a masquerade mask and a big, curling fake mustache.

Amelia meanwhile wore something similar but with her favored goth-punk twist; a purple and black stripped dress with a corset top and tu-tu type skirt with fluffy black layers of lace beneath, sheer leggings in which one leg was black, the other red, platform Mary Jane's, a small top hat propped tilted on her head and a mask of her own. Especially since Amelia had _finally_ dropped her guard with Jerome, he couldn't help but ogle her any chance he could. Hatter was irritating though was indeed right; Jerome was a lucky guy."Welp, all is fired up and rearing to go," Jerome sent on as he finished up. "Laura will _certainly_ be pleased," a scheming grin curled his lips.

"I've no doubt about that," Amelia agreed from where she sat upon some boxes with her legs crossed. "This will be a night to remember," she wiggled her eyebrows playfully. Soon, the fashion show was coming to a close, the models joining the crowd for the remainder of the gathering. Evan took to the stage once more, to go on about his business plans before the entertainment for the night took their place. Amelia snickered from where she sat, "Too bad the sap won't get to see those plans unfold."

In due time, the magician's cue was sent forth, Jerome and Amelia then walking out on stage, arms out and then they took a slow bow.

"Greetings, greetings," Jerome announced as the crowd applauded them. Evan Todd was apparently not too bright, any proactive person would know better than to hire a magician after the time Jerome crashed the whole children's hospital charity, courtesy of the Wayne brat, several months ago. _Especially_ since Jerome was alive again. The ginger wasn't complaining though. Someone as shady and stupid as Evan Todd had what was coming to them. "Are you all ready for a _magical_ night?" Jerome said, exaggerating his tone so that he sounded different enough from his usual voice. The crowd cheered in agreement. "Then, let's begin, shall we?" He took Amelia's hand after she'd wheeled in a low, black table in front of them. Laying her flat upon it, Jerome motioned his hands for a moment over her as Amelia closed her eyes. The crowd murmured in curiosity, wondering what the magician was doing. In fact, Amelia was showcasing something she had practiced in the past. Spirits aided her as she chanted in her mind and proceeded to float up after some short moments. The crowd roused louder now as Jerome took a large metal ring, moving it over Amelia's body. Then, he lifted his hands to show that he, in fact, was not holding anything that would have assisted him.

The crowd erupted then into applause, all amazed as to _how_ he had pulled that off. Jerome wanted to go into their little show with a _bang,_ fully captivating his unsuspecting victims. They wouldn't even know what hit them. Keeping his heads hovering over Amelia, he lowered them as she was then lowered back upon the table, helped her up and the each gave a bow.

"That trick was pretty _hot,_ wouldn't you agree?" Jerome quipped, with a grin as he moved a hand from behind his back to to reveal that each of his finger tips were alight like candles. Rousing rolled over the crowd again, and soon Jerome shook the flames out and proceeded to his next trick. "For my next act, I will need you all to pay _close_ attention..." Jerome inclined to the crowd a bit as they peered at him. He then pulled forth a stack of cards. "I'll need a volunteer for this next trick. How about the man of the hour?" Eyes turned over to Evan, who looked like he was somewhat not expecting to have been chosen.

"Sure," Evan agreed, a grin forming on his lips. Amelia and Jerome smiled then to each other, both secretly laughing on the inside at how pathetically gullible this whole crowd was.

"There's a good sport! Now," Jerome set forth, shuffling his deck of cards before holding them out splayed in his hand to Evan. "Choose wisely," Jerome nodded once, looking to Evan with intent eyes. "When you are done, let the crowd take a gander at what it is, but be sure not to let me sneak a peak," he flicked his eyes away then, whistling casually as he waited.

Evan shifted to pick one, looked at it and then showed it to the crowd. It was a Jester card, and unbeknownst to Evan, the moment everyone looked at the card, they would placed under a hex, courtesy of Amelia. The crowd stared, unblinkingly, though Evan apparently had not noticed the shift.

"Is _this_ your card...?" Jerome asked, Evan's gray brows furrowing as he noted the change in the magician's tone. He held out a Jester, showed it to Evan and then slowly showed it to the crowd. Evan blinked when he noticed that the crowd had fallen dead silent.

"What's wrong with them?" Evan stammered as he blinked in perplexity at the sight of his unblinking, unmoving colleagues. When he glanced back to the magician, he was cackling softly as he removed his mask. An utterly horrified look lay on Evan's face when he witnessed who the magician truly was.

"They're under a spell," Amelia clarified with a smirk, eyes flicking to Evan.

"Mr. Todd, you have been a sneaky, sneaky snake..." Jerome sent on as he stepped near, though Evan was suddenly dashing away from him and towards the door. A few of Jerome's followers appeared around one corner leading to the bathrooms, blocking the man from exiting. "And for that, my friend, you're in for a _show..."_ Jerome cackled wildly as Amelia wheeled in a dark box and flung it open.

Evan attempted to push past the followers, all clad in black and white and strange face paint resembling clown makeup.

"C'mon, Evan, don't you want to stay for the highlight of our event?" Amelia offered, revealing a large Jack in the Box, proceeding to turn the lever round and round, an ominous little tune emitting from it.

"No! Don't!" He pleaded, fumbling away from the followers blocking his path, cackling at him as they did. The Jack in the Box popped open as Evan ran from person to person, shaking them to attempt to wake them up.

A chuckle rang from Amelia loudly. "That won't break the spell, you sad sack!" She and Jerome pulled gas masks over their head as the Jack in Box open it's mouth and a green gas emitted from it. Evan flicked his gaze over frantically.

"Why are you doing this?" Evan demanded.

"It's pretty simple," Jerome said from behind his mask, in a matter-of-fact fashion as he strolled back and forth on the stage. "A friend of a friend is upset because you're a conniving sack of crap, yadda yadda yadda... That whole shpiel," he explained as the gas floated throughout the whole of the room. The followers wore gas masks now as well, to which Even attempted to pry one off, only to be knocked onto his rear. The follower pulled out a machete and was lunging at Evan now. " _Ah, ah, ah!"_ Jerome wagged his finger at the follower, who halted, looking at Jerome in question as Evan cowered on the ground below him. Jerome grinned darkly. "Allow the poison to do it's work, would ya? It will make his death all the more... slow and delightful, hmm?" He tilted his head, sniggering at Evan who could only look at him in horror. The toxin was now floating along, filling the whole of the space. After a few short moments, the spellbound crowd proceeded to all gag and choke. Evan did all he could; held his breath, tried pushing past the followers at the doors. It was no use however, and before he knew it he'd accidentally inhaled the toxin and his lungs proceeded to burn like flames. Soon, he was joining the others in gagging on his own blood that kept fighting it's way up his throat.

"Ooh," Amelia grimaced a little, though laughed aloud as she and Jerome watched everyone suffer. "That definitely looks like a harsh way to go."

"All the better," Jerome grinned from behind his mask as the party room now looked more like a blood bath. People scuttered around, muddled in Amelia's spell and practically flailing about as their subconscious's fought against the poison. People ran into each other, fell over the runway and into the walls. All while Jerome and Amelia cackled away at the scene before them. Jerome in particular was getting a kick out of how ridiculous everyone looked and was nearly _hooting_ with laughter. The crowd was making quite a ruckus though, and someone outside was trying to haul the doors open. "Time to scram," Jerome and Amelia bolted behind the stage and out of the back door, into Amelia's car and skidded off into the night.

 _-A few moments later, at Jerome's hideaway-_

Jerome and Amelia took to Jerome's office, both still elated that their plan worked out so well. Amelia had just gotten off of the phone, confirming to Laura that they had successfully gotten rid of Evan Todd and his whole crew. "I must say, my dear, you never fail to impress," Jerome said to Amelia who sat atop his desk, swinging her legs a bit. He edged closely to her, to which green eyes watched him carefully, drinking in his features; his soft freckles and pale skin, made paler by the bright light hanging over them. A hand reached to tangle itself into black hair, pale pink lips finding red swiftly, possessively pried apart by Jerome's hot tongue.

Amelia pressed into the kiss as their tongues fought against one another for a long moment. The kiss was as passionate as their last, Jerome's fervency never failed to bleed into the yearning witch, filling her veins with white hot desire. Jerome pressed closer, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk so that he could quite literally rip her stockings off of her. Once again Amelia was sent into this place in which she felt so blissful, yet so cautious and overly aware. Jerome was trailing hungry kisses along her neck, leaning over her so that he was now atop her on the rickety desk. Lips ventured lower as he moved so that her legs were on either side of his form, his center pressing firmly to her own. A soft growl rose from his throat as hazel eyes looked to Amelia's longingly, though he couldn't help but note the hesitation in her own eyes. He'd ignored it however, far too distracted now by his swelling member, which he pressed against her firmly, feeling the tresses of her womanhood against his heat. The sensation made Valeska's knees practically fail entirely.

Teeth nibbled against skin, tongue lapping every once in a while along Amelia's collar bone and chest. The touches sent thrilling races along Amelia's spine, but her mind grew more and more foggy. More and more anxious. Eventually, Jerome over powering her like this became too much for her.

"Stop," Amelia said suddenly, pushing Jerome gently away. Jerome obliged, though blinked in confusion a moment before he edged closer again, leaning to look her in the eyes in this longing, feral fashion.

"You have no idea how _difficult_ it is to resist you, Amelia..." Jerome nearly hissed between his teeth. Part of him didn't _care_ to listen, and so wanted to shove her against that desk again and tear all of her clothing off. But Jerome was ever aware of her past, and knew it affected her deeply. It was _annoying..._ but that's just how to was. Jerome was domineering by nature, and it was hard for him not to just have his way with her like he so desired. Perhaps, it would be best to allow Amelia to take the lead, when she was ready. For now there were clear lines that should not be crossed.


	14. Welcome to the Jester's Haunt

_((Hey everyone! Hope you're enjoying the story so far. I've still got plenty in store. This chapter is an original that strays a little from the key events of Jerome's timeline and I had a lot of fun with it. By the way, if anyone is interested I have a profile for Amelia which includes information on herself as well as photos of what Holly and Laura look like in the 'Relationships' section. This chapter involves a character I named Francis, who I imagined to be depicted by a young Kelly Reilly. Xavier I also imagined to look a bit like Avan Jogier. Enjoy!_

 _document/d/1jtt5P_6o0KItoliud9OyXyp-hPYnu-5NnBx8JqpOHSg/edit?usp=sharing))_

Rain poured relentlessly from the black clouds on this night. A resentful tumble of thunder drummed on in the distance. Amelia was making way down the sidewalk after picking up a few things from several shops; tools, food, the like, her black combat boots splashing faintly against shallow puddles of water. Taking a drag from her cigarette, she hauled all of the items into the trunk and circled around the sheening-slick car and got inside. Shuddering a bit, she rubbed her arms, turned on her car and blasted her heater. Christmas was nearing, and she couldn't help but be a little tempted to potentially celebrate the holiday in an unorthodox and likely dark fashion. Amelia's car peeled out and away from the sidewalk then as she made her way down the glistening roads, figuring she'd put her Christmas plans aside for now. There were other things to see to, after all.

Driving a small ways out of Gotham, she proceeded down a gravel, winding path that led to a metal gate. Beyond that was a relatively sizable home. Some lights were on inside, as the others were setting things up. It had been only around a month now since Amelia got her sisters on board to fully join the dark side of Gotham, and with their help came decent perks. She, her sisters, Jerome and Xavier were all able to join funds to purchase a home large enough to house them all. It was also off the grid, abandoned and thus needed quite a lot of work, though it was certainly a brilliant find, all thanks to Xavier.

Amelia entered her new home, the sound of the others shuffling and chattering a bit as they got certain rooms cleaned up and put together. The home itself was lovely, though quite old, ominous and rickety. Upon entering would be a reasonably sized entryway, three archways on either side of the space. The left archways led to the dining and living areas, while the right led to the office and recreational room. On the far end of the entryway was a turning stairway, a large window above that adorned with heavy curtains that were old though made of what seemed a good and elaborate quality and design. At a focal point in the entryway lay a large chandelier. The whole of the space had a dark, Gothic vibe, much to Amelia's liking.

Upstairs, there were 4 bedrooms in total; one taken by Laura and Xavier, one for Holly, one for Jerome and Amelia and the fourth decidedly was left as a guest room. The office space in particular, Jerome intended on using for his own purposes, though most of their work would be conducted in the underground basement, which was fairly large and cavern-like. As for Jerome's followers, they were given the option to live in Jerome's previous hideaway, which they were indeed raving over.

Amelia entered Jerome's office, placing some things away in a drawer and then glanced to him where he sat, propping his feet up on his desk and clasping his hands behind his head. "Certainly is an upgrade from my previous rat-hole of an office," the maniac mused. "Y'know, despite all the disembodied voices and such."

"Sure is," Amelia agreed as she took in the room; it seemed they got a lot done while she was gone. Jerome's office in particular was now rather complete; there was his desk in the midst of the room, long red embellished curtains covering the half boarded-up window beside him, some filing cabinets behind him and a large bulletin board with some articles pinned up, a map of Gotham... the works, initially. "And hey, we could use the spirits to our advantage. Also, looks to me like you're actually taking a more methodical approach to things now, eh?" Amelia smirked.

Jerome quirked a brow, jestfully flashing his teeth in a wicked smile. "Ah, for the most part. I am, as you know, a bit more of a _spontaneous_ kinda guy. But, yes I will admit some planning wouldn't hurt. Frankly, because of this slew of plans that landed itself on our laps, we were set back a bit on targeting twinsie. But I've made arrangements with the Mad Hatter to get some information out of the principal of St. Ignacious. I'll be seeing to that tomorrow morning," he explained as he twirled a pen between his fingers. "Feel free to join in on the fun," an evil little spark glinted in his eyes.

"I'll keep that in mind," Amelia slipped to sit upon his desk, leaning closely. Jerome's eyes trailed her features intently before the black haired witch leaned to press a kiss to his lips. A hand rose to her jaw as Jerome returned the kiss eagerly. Recently, Amelia was opening up a bit more to him, and Jerome found himself growing the more possessive of her. Her love was like a drug, and reaping chaos with her even more so. The best part about it is that neither of them was particularly mushy, more-so _intense._ There was no need to say 'I love you' when their fire burned as brightly as it did. Jerome was more than okay with their dynamic. The vulnerability did come with some getting used to, for them both.

"Amelia," Laura's voice called into the space as she ventured past the pillared archways and into the office space. "I don't mean to interrupt, but Holly and I just discovered something. Come down to the coven with me," she sent on, her dark eyes urging Amelia along. The little witch spun and then flung herself off of Jerome's desk, to which Jerome's eyes slipped along her form in a suggestive way before he flicked his gaze to Laura.

"Mind if I tag along?" Jerome quipped. Laura merely waved her hand impatiently, to which her scampered over to follow them to the hidden entrance leading into the coven.

Laura led them down the oddly placed wooden steps and into the cavern, then headed over to where Holly sat at a round desk, upon which a glass ball glowed with an image inside. Amelia and Laura stepped forth, features aglow in the orb's light. "Who's she?" Amelia asked, looking from the image of a woman, slightly older than their trio, in the ball and then to her sisters.

" _She_ is a rat who is trying to frame Holly and I," Laura clarified. "We asked the orb to seek out any potential trouble makers and she—so far—is one that drew up."

"Well, what're ya gonna do to get rid of this little snitch?" Jerome asked, something mischievous dancing in his eyes as he brought a hand thoughtfully to his chin and grinned a bit. Getting involved with a band of witches usually proved to be _quite_ amusing for him.

The sisters looked at each other, plotting within their minds.

"We cast a spell to lure her here," Holly suggested.

"Amelia, you could potentially use the spirits here to your advantage," Laura sent on, turning her dark eyes to look to her green-eyed sister from behind her blunt-cut bangs.

A wicked smile edged onto Amelia's lips. "See? _This_ is why I missed working with you two so much," Amelia put her arms around their shoulders. "We'll have a little fun with this sorry lady, scare her pants off," Amelia chuckled as she envisioned how this might turn out.

"And I'll finish the job," Jerome stepped forth, sharing an evil grin along with the three witches.

"Sounds like a ball," Holly agreed, her blonde curls of hair bouncing a bit as she nodded in agreement.

"Xavier's making dinner soon, let's have our guest over and show them our _greatest_ hospitality," Laura purred as the three sisters took their places to sit around the orb to chant and bewitch their target.

 _-An hour later-_

Francis trembled faintly, her palms sweaty and slick against the steering wheel of her car. She had just been setting up her station to print some photos of those pesky little witches to hang up around town to help bring them to justice. Only a week prior, one of them had targeted her brother. He ended up in a freak accident, more specifically went into a frenzy and drove straight off of a cliff and into the ocean. It was unlike him, thus she knew it had to be the work of those witches. All the same, she _knew_ her brother should not have gotten involved with Dr. Freeze. She'd _warned_ him that getting involved with criminals of that caliber could only bring trouble. They had a falling out, her brother having taken to trying to avoid the frozen man.

A curse pushed it's way from her lips. She had no idea _why_ she was driving out of Gotham in the middle of the damn night, though chalked it up to anxiety. Eventually, she found herself pulling up a gravel path and to a large home. The lights were on inside, and a wonderful smell wafted from the open window. Exiting her car, she pulled the metal gate open with a _creak_ and proceeded to the door, knocking three times. Francis felt robotic, and something surely didn't feel right to her. Why had she come here? Had she lost her mind after the trauma of losing her brother? She huffed, tucking her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear as she waited, eyes upon the dampened-dark porch steps under her feet.

"Welcome," a voice greeted, causing Francis to glance up to the doorway. She shivered, having been soaked from the rain. The somewhat short, dark haired woman looked utterly gutted at the sight of her. Her eyes were so big too, impossibly green... Francis couldn't seem to pry her eyes away from them. "Oh, my," the young woman pouted her full, red lips a bit. "You look lost. And you are _drenched._ But, you're in luck. We've just finished cooking up a feast. Why don't you come in? While the rain comes to a halt," she motioned a hand to the rain that still poured.

Francis smiled then. "That would be nice," she sent on with a nod, and another shudder as a cold gust of wind rushed up her dampened back. The gust was so strong, it hauled her inside and the front door _slammed_ behind her, causing her to jump.

"This way," the pixie-like young woman led her through some archways and into the dining room. The table was vast, upon it lay several decadent selections of food.

"Wow," Francis uttered, "it all looks so delicious," she beamed as she looked to those sitting around the table. There were two young men, one sitting at the head of the table with red hair, and another with dark hair and tanned skin. Then there were two young women, one with blonde, quite curly hair and lovely eyes and a shorter, darker haired young lady with dark eyeliner, similar to how the woman who greeted her wore hers. They both looked to Francis and smiled, welcomingly—too welcomingly—and Francis couldn't help but feel that they looked oddly familiar. The young woman who answered the door murmured something unintelligible and that familiarity suddenly died away. There were nothing but a group of kind strangers, as far as Francis knew, in her wake.

The green-eyed young woman turned to the dark haired man. "Show our guest to the bathroom so she can dry off." Francis was then led to the other side of the entry way and was shown inside by the kind young man. When she shut the door, Xavier smirked faintly, knowingly and wickedly.

Francis took a look around, then opened up a wooden cabinet and grabbed a plush towel. Patting herself dry, she shifted to look into the mirror as she was certain her makeup was likely a smeared disaster. The reflection in the mirror however caused Francis's breath to catch sharp in her throat. It was her; though a far more ghastly and grotesque version... her face was withered, her hair ragged and dirty, her eyes black, hollow, cracked and bottomless pits. Dread tore at her chest as Francis struggled to breathe, though she could not look away. The reflection opened it's mouth, impossibly wide as it emitted a horrid sound; akin to the raspy, screeching cries of death. Francis struggled as the figure moved it's decayed hands to it's throat, choking itself, all while Francis's hands mirrored along with the entity. Blue eyes were wide and tear-rimmed in utter horror, her voice croaking out as she fought her own grasp from her neck. Then, all too abruptly, the image fell away and her hands pried free.

Francis crumbled to the ground, catching her breath frantically, body quaking to the bone in terror. Eventually, she managed to hobble her way back to the kitchen. All eyes were on her as she reemerged, taking her spot back at the table. Xavier was setting the plates out, and moved to scoop some food up to serve her. "Thank you," Francis managed, still not sure _what_ exactly happened in the bathroom... When she peered at her plate, what lay upon it caused her to lurch backwards a little. Bugs. All kinds of them, swarming her plate and then pouring into her lap, biting at her legs and stomach through her long skirt. Francis yelped loudly, edging hastily out of her seat. Though when she looked back to her spot after wiping herself off in a panic, the bugs were gone. Pasta lay on her plate, as if none of that even happened.

"You seem awfully shaken," the green-eyed woman arched her thin brows in deep concern. Inside however, she was laughing uncontrollably. Her target was utterly helpless against the spell work. The red haired young man couldn't seem to hold back his snickering, which caused this horrid feeling that something was _wrong_ here to creep back over Francis.

Francis looked in disbelief at her plate, as she hesitantly took her spot again. Everyone peered at her in question, much to her embarrassment. "I apologize," she stammered. "I... I think I must be going through something," she admitted, picking up her fork with a shaky hand and taking a few bites. The food was delicious, hot and satisfying. Already she was beginning to feel at ease.

"Oh, you got a little food on your face, allow me," the green-eyed woman was moving then and when Francis went to look at her, she had the most _deadly_ look in her eye and held a sharp knife in her bone-white hand. "This will only hurt a little," the woman's red lips spread into a wide, devil-like smile. Francis whimpered, though could not move. Her arms were latched to the arms of the seat, legs pressed firmly to the legs of it as well. Snapping her eyes shut, a wail flew from her lips when she felt that knife slowly make it's way through her cheek and up into her brain. The pain was riveting, hot, blinding. Flying from her spot, Francis fumbled away, tripping over the carpet and splaying onto the wooden floor hopelessly. A hand reached to frantically pat her cheek. There was no wound. Another illusion? "Where are you going? Dinner's only just started," the pixie-like woman loomed over, that same grin upon her lips as if she were a predator about to rip into her prey. Francis shrieked, scrambled to her feet, darting to the door only to fall over backwards on her rear when a shadow-like monster loomed over the front door, red eyes gazing harshly back at her. If she looked long enough, it felt as if her spirit was being sucked out of her.

Francis moved away then, scampered back down the hall to find a window to break through. Chanting and this ongoing, clown-like laughter drifted through the air, the sound making her skin crawl. Lightning struck violently outside, the chandelier overhead rattling as the lights flicked off. The smell of fresh food was replaced by that of death and decay, a hand clasping over her nose as Francis moved from window to window.

"You've made a dire mistake," a hollow voice drifted icily through the air, Francis turning to see an odd looking doll. The sinister little doll rose her hand, a knife glinting in the moon's light that shone through the large window in the stairway. "You will pay for trying to target us," the doll sent on in a tiny, childlike though evil voice. Francis blinked in disbelief, realizing then that the doll looked like Laura, one of the witches she was attempting to get rid of. As the doll rushed towards her, Francis sprinted away towards the stair way.

As she reached the window however, an entity similar to the one in the bathroom mirror appeared. This one held curls of blonde hair, the same deathly gray and decaying skin as the last and oozing, black eyes. It levitated there, it's tattered layers of white drifting in spectral fashion as it opened it's mouth wide, it's jaw cracking open as it growled deeply towards Francis. She _bolted_ then up the steps as the being reached it's boney digits, ripping some of her hair out to which Francis screamed and sobbed.

Eyes flicked hastily around, trying desperately to find an exit. She entered a bedroom, pausing when she noted a dark figure standing in the corner, holding a silver platter barely visible in the moon's light that shone through the window. Moving towards the window, the figure opened the platter and a soft hissing sound drifted into her ears then. Trying to haul the window open, Francis shrieked when snakes made their way over the glass, a few darting out and biting into her face. The figure chuckled darkly, and then vanished. Francis then _pushed_ the snakes away and made way for another room. There _had_ to be a room that wasn't being haunted. Truthfully she was so stricken, and she had no idea how the witches figured out she was the one trying to pin them. She didn't know what she did _wrong..._ what she did to _deserve_ all of this. Though the witches had a dark reputation and apparently if you so much as tried to pin them, this is the sort of game they liked to play. Francis merely hoped it was a prank, and that she could at least get out alive. _God,_ she hoped she could at least have that much.

Proceeding down the hallway quickly, though carefully as not to run into any walls, she tried moving a little more quietly now as she proceeded into another dark bedroom. Her heart lept with relief when she saw that the latch to open the window was left open. Now she could easily manage her way down. She was on the second floor, so she may have to hobble off with a broken foot, but she didn't care at this point. A film of sweat made itself known and she realized now how much being in this much fear could take out of her. The window was large, large enough to push the bed through to create a softer landing for herself. Blue eyes glanced around. The coast was clear, thus she pushed the window open, the breeze outside beckoning her out. Moving to the bed, she pushed it with all her might and positioned it to the window. Then, she shoved it out and had lodged it about a third of the way outside of the opening. A faint chuckle sounded just then and dread yet again clutched her throat. _So close!_

"Y'know... I _just_ bought that bed," a voice—an oddly familiar one—said as footsteps neared, slowly clicking against the floor boards. Something in his tone was quite dark. Where had she heard that voice?

His figure then appeared against the moon's light from the shadows. It was the red haired young man from earlier, only now he sported this sinister grin that stretched wide on his face. He looked to Francis from under his brow in this feral way that made her heart thud in panic. She recognized him now, now with that _smile..._ Jerome Valeska. Shoes clicked closer as he pulled a blade from his pocket. "It's been a hoot, screwing around with you. You should have _seen_ the look on your face when you thought bugs were crawling all over you. _Priceless!_ " an ear-splitting cackle flew from his lips.

"You are all _monsters,"_ Francis shook as she spoke, edged against the bed hanging partially out of the window. The wind outside was cold and bitter against her back, through heR blouse.

"Oh?" Jerome tilted his head as he inched closer, still twirling his blade around in this way that was sort of nonchalant. It was telling; it surely told Francis that he'd killed many and quite _enjoyed_ it, at that. That thought made her shudder visibly. "You were targeting the witchy trio, weren't you? All because there was some mix up with your ah, _muttonhead_ of a brother? I'd say... there are _monsters_ inside of us all... wouldn't you agree?" Another laugh ripped from Jerome then. He was having a _blast_ with it all. He hooted with laughter when he'd rendered Francis speechless. It was because she knew he was _correct._ Francis opened her mouth to retort somehow, though could only stare in horror as Jerome warped into something as his laughing drew on. His grin stretched impossibly, his features growing into something a bit cartoon-like, what looked to be a sinister jester with sloppily-painted red lips, a mouth riddled with fang-like teeth and wacky hair. He moved closer, blade in hand. Francis tried to edge away, only to realize she was already backed into a corner, feeling not unlike a caged and helpless animal.

"Unfortunately for you, you won't get to relish what sheer joy it is, to be a _killer,"_ a cackle drew forth again, Francis screaming as a knife was plunged into her chest. The pain was so vivid, and her mind wheeled and wheeled. It was when she felt her own hot blood dripping that she knew this time, it was not an illusion. Jerome grinned to her, his eyes wild as he relished each moment of her demise. "Game's over," a hand reached then, to push Francis out of the window. Her neck had broken, blue eyes glassy and far away... and all she could see now was this growing darkness as her death loomed close to her. All she could feel was this seering, splitting pain and this feeling of being an utter fool. Only now did Francis learn not to mess with this band of criminals.


	15. The Hunt Begins

_((Hey everyone! I've been inactive for some time now, having needed a bit of a break to rest up and get some school courses over with. This chapter is a little shorter as I'm getting back into my groove and is covering some more bases that were important in the TV series/Jerome's arc. From there, I will really be picking up on putting more of my own flavor to things and adding some twists to Jerome's original fate. I hope you're enjoying the story and thank you for those that may be following it still!))_

" _Ahhh,"_ Jerome emitted, placing his steaming cup of black coffee upon the kitchen table. "Nothin' like a hot cup of Joe to get the day started," a wily smirk crossed his features then as he looked to those present at the table with him: Amelia and Hatter. "Especially a day as paramount as today. I spent all night concocting a suitable plan of action. No doubt the Wayne runt is on my tail, making it his end game to track me down... all 'cause he didn't have the _guts_ to finish the job back at the carnival... _boo-hoo,_ " a mocking snigger rolled from him, before he noted that Jervis was making goo-goo eyes at Amelia, who was currently distracted with organizing her crystal ball and a photo of the headmaster of St. Ignacius, printed from the schools website.

" _Remember,"_ Jerome snapped abruptly, slamming his fist on the table, rattling it a bit and causing Hatter to jump and snap his attention to Jerome. Amelia hadn't seemed phased, merely continuing to set up her station. She was after all used to Jerome having outbursts or being obnoxious at nearly any moment. Especially when it came to his plans. "There is a reason for you being here... _Comprender_?" the redhead sent forth in a growl, glowering at Hatter. Hatter nodded hastily in turn, flashing his buck teeth apologetically.

"Fear not over my ambitions," Hatter assured to Jerome. "I will see to it this plan comes to fruition," he nodded once more, a little too firmly, his hat almost toppling over his face. Amelia sneered at him a bit, not taking too well to _Jervis_ having to aide them today. Though, all the same, the raven-haired witch knew that it was all in part to help Jerome reach his goal... to find and terminate his twin brother. Though it seemed the twin was commendable in the skill on concealing himself...

Jerome leaned back in his seat a bit, though still glared bitterly at Hatter. As he took his coffee mug back into his hands "Good," he began, "then listen closely..."

Amelia had been present for two purposes; to place the headmaster of St. Ignacius under a spell in which he would not resist pulling the trigger to the bomb attached to him, provided by Hatter himself. The other reason for the crystal ball was to keep an eye on what was happening in the headmasters office at a distance. Surely Jerome was always thrilled to have a bit of an advantage in that way.

Hatter had stalked off to see to his own part of the mission, which entailed politely approaching the headmaster to make it seem as if he was just a man with some questions. Of course, as Amelia's own spell took it's toll, Hatter had easily placed the bomb on the headmasters torso once adequate enough information was given on Xander Wilde, which was an alias that Jerome's brother had adopted. Unfortunately though, this was all the information that Hatter had managed to reel out. He then set his spell in motion with his clock and strolled on outside, humming softly as he did. Despite Amelia's distaste for Hatter's draw to her and just her plain annoyance with him, there was no denying that working with another spell caster would make their plan work that much more thoroughly.

Back at The Jester's Haunt, Jerome and Amelia looked into her crystal ball as the image of what was going on came through. Indeed, a few bystanders had taken notice of Hatter exiting the school building and warned the police. Soon thereafter, before the police had shown up, Bruce was making way through the school and into the headmaster's office.

"Excuse me," Bruce stated when he spotted the elderly headmaster standing at the end of the office, facing the window.

"Yes?" the headmaster questioned, not seeming to pay him much mind.

"My name is Bruce Wayne," Bruce said to him, trying to sound a bit more firm then so that he hopefully could get the man's attention a bit better. Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that the man was acting a little oddly. "I need to know whether Jerome Valeska has passed through here recently," he pressed.

"I have not spoken to a Mr. Valeska, though a nice young man by the name Jervis Tetch did stop in..." the headmaster made known.

"Jervis?" Bruce recounted, brows furrowing in concern. The young man knew this was the work of Jervis, noting the ticking clock near... though something else didn't seem right, and the image of that sinister witch working side by side with Jerome flashed in his mind. "Why was he here?"

"He was inquiring about the name of certain student who graduated some years back. Xander Wilde was his name..." he proceeded to say, his eyes looking glazed and far off.

" _Do_ something!" Jerome had swatted at Amelia the moment it seemed like the headmaster was beginning to try and divert her spellwork and give away too much information.

"I am, sheesh," Amelia retorted, motioning her hands over the ball, focused on the headmaster closely and spoke a brief chant.

The headmaster was then quick to change his tune. "As a matter of fact, that Jervis fellow mentioned that he had a message for you," with that, the headmaster turned slowly, revealing the bomb that Jervis had secured onto him. Bruce also noted, uneasily, the button clutched in the man's hand, threatening to trigger it at any second. The headmaster was clearly, very deeply placed in a trance. That fact caused Bruce's stomach to lurch.

"You're being placed under a spell by Jervis Tetch and Amelia Stone," Bruce told to the headmaster in a steady tone, peering back into the older man's cloudy gaze. Bruce had to do what he could, even if it meant pleading with the man before him. A gloved hand reached out slowly. "Hand me the detonator... please," Bruce pleaded.

"I can't do that," the headmaster sent on plainly and robotically.

Amelia chimed in laughter at the sight of Bruce struggling to make the situation better. " _Ha!_ There is no _point_ in pleading, he's far too gone now!"

Laughter tumbled loudly out of Jerome in turn, before he abruptly stopped and pointed to the orb, grinning. "Lookie there, Jimbo and Fatso made it!"

Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock made way into the office hastily, each looking to the spellbound headmaster before Bruce.

Harvey looked to the clock ticking behind the headmaster, upon the mantel to his fireplace. "He's under Jervis's spell," Harvey stated swiftly, "get down," he motioned Bruce out of his path and fired his gun, sending the clock shattering to pieces to break the spell.

The headmaster flinched, albeit only slightly at the gun blaring. Though the spell had apparently not been broken, the headmaster still holding firmly onto the bombs trigger. Harvey, Jim and Bruce each glanced to each other in sheer shock. Jim looked quickly to see if there were any other clocks around the office, to no avail.

"What the hell is going on?" Harvey asked, utterly confused at this point.

"It's Amelia, that witch that was working for Jerome back at the carnival," Bruce explained.

"Wait, what-?! You're saying there is _someone else_ who can cast spells on people?" Harvey asked in incredulity.

"You all may want to save explanations for later and _get down-!"_ Jim proceeded to warn, just as the headmaster pressed the trigger, and the bomb fired off, blowing himself then into smithereens.

From where Jerome and Amelia were, they nearly collapsed onto the floor in laughter. Jerome hooted in laughter from his place on the ground. Climbing back to his feet, he smiled widely to Amelia, pulling her into a firm kiss. "That all worked brilliantly, m'dear," Jerome sent on, elated.

"Hey, you _are_ the one who thought most of it up, you know," Amelia pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah... that is true," Jerome gained a playfully thoughtful look, to which Amelia jabbed him in the ribs. Jerome flinched and chuckled, then soon after looked to Amelia and rubbed his hands together. "Now... we're a step closer to finding that rat of a brother. I can't wait to get my hands on him so I can _wring_ his stupid neck...!"


	16. The Hunt Begins Part Two

"Alright, let's see what we come up with," Amelia murmured from her place seated at the computer in Jerome's office space. Scrolling through the results for 'Xander Wilde', she huffed impatiently when it looked like there had been really no information under that name in particular. Nothing that told of the Xander Wilde they were looking for, anyway. Black painted nails tapped briefly on the desk as she thought. Jerome leaned near her, twirling a lolipop in his fingers.

Amelia then settled with tabbing in just the letters 'XW', not entirely sure if that would help at all. "You know, the convinence of my spellwork has really rendered this kind of crap extra tedious," the green eyed witch commented.

"Yeah, you're telling me, sweet-cheeks... we've been here for an _hour_ already," Jerome groaned, throwing his arms up and sauntering off slightly to roam around the office space.

"Hey, I am doing _everything_ in my ability to help you find this little pest," the witch snapped, turning her piercing eyes to Jerome a moment, glowering at him.

"I know, I know," Jerome protested, holding his hands out a moment. "You know I simply _can't_ resist riling you up... princess," he teased, recounting the first time they had met. Amelia merely ignored him, scrolling along on some web pages.

"Wait," Amelia said suddenly. Having located a website for a company by the name Meyer&Hayes, she browsed around some photos of buildings that they had displayed in some sort of web portfolio that took her a moment to find. "Look," she pointed to the screen, Jerome drifting near to see. Amelia indicated the initials X.W. at the bottom of some of the photos, and then jotted down the address to the place.

"It's in Gotham. Think it may be worth a look?" Amelia questioned, turning her large eyes to her flamboyant boyfriend.

Jerome's cogs proceeded working just then. "Twinny was always annoying," he pointed out, stroking his chin a moment, "especially with his pathetic ranting about all of his garbage inventions," wily eyes looked to Amelia as they shared a devious, calculating look. "He has always had a knack for being an _engineer,_ or whatever, in other words," Jerome clarified then. Jerome patted Amelia, a little too firmly, on the shoulder then. "All right, _mi amore,_ get ready, 'cause we're gonna pay 'em a visit and stir things up a little..." a giddy cackle bubbled from the maniac as he swiftly pecked Amelia's cheek and scampered off towards their room.

─ _A couple of hours later_ ─

Indeed, Jerome Valeska as well as Nightingale, Amelia's coven, had established themselves in the undergroud of Gotham in recent months. While doing shady or even downright evil favors for the most infamous criminals may have been looked down upon by most, though for their group, it surely came with it's perks. It entailed quite the sum of money, that was for certain and Jerome and Amelia hadn't hesitated to shop for some interesting articles to wear when they went out to make a statement to the world. They were rising to the top after all and would create a name for themselves.

The pair proceeded around the back of the large structure, the house of the company Meyer&Hayes. Jerome sported a suit in fact that he pieced together himself. It consisted of a an indigo coat, buttoned closed though with the collar revealing a black and white checkered vest over a light grey undershirt. The tie he wore was stripped, green and black in color. The pants he wore were plaid, grey being the more prominent color while the stripes were black. On his feet he sported red high top sneakers.

Amelia's outfit was just as whimsical. In recent months Amelia had quite a breakthrough spiritually, as she at last embraced who she truly was. The outfit she wore now she felt reflected her breakthrough quite well. On her top half she wore a long sleeved white collared shirt, with a sort of tanktop-corset-vest in black overtop it. The front of the corset, around the buttons as well was adorned with a layer of purple lace. On her lower half in turn was a lacey, lolita-type skirt in purple with a layer of black fluffy lace beneath that. Her legs were covered with leggings made from faux leather, the left leg of which being black whilst the other was stripped with black and purple. As usual, she wore black combat boots, her usual makeup with her hair in its usual soft splay of spikes.

The scheming pair prowled silently around the back of the building. Jerome had come armed with a shot gun while Amelia settled with a pistol. Once they located the back entrance, Jerome kicked the door in with ease. They proceeded inside, eyes glancing around cautiously as they entered the lower level garage and back storage rooms.

"Hey-" one guard proceeded to protest as soon as he caught sight of the strangely dressed couple, though Amelia knocked him out rather quickly. Jerome furrowed his brows at her, faintly jokingly.

"Leave some for me, too, _yeesh,"_ Jerome jested, knowing full well she was always quick to cut to the chase. Moving past Amelia the two continued along throughout the space until they reached an elevator. Once they reached the next level, they emerged with their guns pointed and ready.

Guards clamoured as soon as they spotted the two criminals, a couple pressing buttons on their walkies to alert the other guards on the premises. Jerome emitted a cackle as he blasted through a couple of guards approaching him. Amelia took to staying back to back with Jerome as the guards closed in on them, each moving almost perfectly in sync with each other as they fended them off. Amelia lifted a leg to bash into the guards on her side, in time with Jerome who diverted another's incoming punches and flipped him onto his face, laughing as he did as if mocking them the entire time.

When another came towards Jerome, he stuck his elbows out, indicating a move he'd practised with Amelia some days ago. Amelia linked her arms with his, to which he used his own weight to lift and roll her backwards over his back, sending her kick flying into the last guard in their wake currently. Amelia finished the job by easily blasting the guard clean in the skull.

Their approaches may have been different; Jerome being the type to fool around and mess with his target's heads while Amelia was more cut-throat and to the point, though through their time working together they had indeed found they worked flawlessly together. Even with how much they vexed one another at times or had their own issues to still see to, it was almost as if it were destiny for them to have met. Even now, Amelia had her guard up a little when it came to their love relationship though she surely was not as stubborn as she had been before.

Having plowed through the guards almost entirely unscatched, They made way through the halls to reach the stairwell instead this time. The two then scurried up the winding steps that seemed to go up and up forever. At certain points, there were doors leading to different levels to the building. Emerging from one door they were approaching, an employee came into the stairwell, startled to see the two before him. The bald, young-ish looking fellow in a clean dark suit fumbled for his walkie, pressing the button hastily before Jerome _snatched_ and hauled the walkie into the wall.

"Ah, sorry, but no," Jerome mused, flashing a dark grin to the employee as he shifted to blast his gun. This one in particular seemed a bit faster than the others had been, having darted off down the stairwell, palpitating as he did and in an utter panic.

Amelia grasped the stair railing, hauling herself sideways and straight into the employee, sending him crumbling against the wall, though had taken Amelia down with him. Amelia growled like a feral animal, baring her teeth as she dug her nails into the skin of the man's neck. He reached hastily, yanking on her hair.

"Now you're _really_ asking for it, you worm!" Amelia shrieked as she reached to beat his face in. Although the man used his leg to shove her off of him, being stronger than he looked, he knocked the Gothic witch into the wall. Jerome had merely been watching, wincing every now and then. Amelia shot him a look of disbelief, screaming at him, "Well, stop just _standing_ there, would you?!" Jerome nodded, snickering as he darted over the rail and onto the level just below him. In a fluid motion, he whacked the employee over the head with the blunt end of his shotgun, rendering him unconscious. Amelia flicked a glare to Jerome a moment, to which he shrugged largely.

"What? You're always the one who insists she can handle herself," Jerome pointed out flippantly.

Amelia rolled her eyes, "You really are a jackass sometimes, you know," Amelia shot back. Jerome merely chuckled, before looking to the unconscious man hanging partially off the stair railing.

"Huh, I should probably do something about ugly here," the ginger suggested, reaching then to push him off of the railing. Amelia stared as the man's body flew down and crashed to the floor. They had, after all, managed to climb up around 10 flights by now. Amelia burst out in laughter when she witnessed the man's body be crushed as it fell.

"You're lucky you always have a way to cheer me up, you know," Amelia told to Jerome through her chuckling.

"Oh believe me, m'dear, I am fully aware you would rip my head clean off if I didn't," Jerome drew near, momentarily distracted by his beautiful, deadly girlfriend-slash-partner-in-crime.

"C'mon," Amelia pushed past him, a little too hard then. "We don't have any time to waste, remember?!" She reminded to him as they made way back up the stairs, settling then with slowly entering the door the dead employee had come from.


	17. Control

Amelia and Jerome glanced around, then stalked out of the emergency exits, crouching behind desks, plants or divisions so they would be as unseen as possible. Jerome in particular was keeping his eyes peeled for anyone that looked like the may have some answers. Then, within the office spaces separated by glass walls he noticed what looked to be a meeting going on. Hazel eyes settled upon the man at the head of the desk, in particular. Motioning to Amelia to follow, they trailed along silently.

Once they reached the glass door, Jerome carefully pulled it open to allow he and Amelia inside. He glanced around, noting some displays of building models at the end of the room nearest to Amelia and himself. He looked over it casually, amused that the employees present where paying such close attention to the meeting that they had not noticed them yet.

Amelia glanced over the employees a moment, before smirking a little. A hand pressed a button on her cell as well, alerting the others in the Legion of Horribles in case they needed assistance getting out once they were finished up. "Your dress codes around here are horribly stiff," she pouted her lip in disgust, then pointed her gun as eyes turned to her, each of those looks quickly shifting to looks of horror. Jerome hummed from where he leaned looking at the displays in interest. He turned, knocking the display over with his gun, sending it breaking against the floor with a _clatter_.

The redhead winced at the sound jokingly. "Woops," he uttered as the others looked to them in silent shock.

The man at the head of the table was the first to speak. "What do you want?" He asked, seeming to try and conceal his fear. This made a dark grin drift onto Jerome's lips as he trailed along past the table. Amelia ensured to stand near the door, in case anyone tried to get out.

"I need information on a man by the name of... _Xander Wilde,"_ he said in a mocking tone, making fun of the name. "That really is a pretty _stupid_ name, don't cha think?" Jerome moved quicker then, pointing his gun to Meyer then, having noted his name tag. "Ah, so you are the big-shot owner to this place, are you? Surely you can make this all go away and tell me where he is, hmm?" Jerome quipped, threateningly despite his maniacal grin.

"We don't know who that is-" one employee stuttered then, breathing heavily as dread filled him.

"Hey, no one asked you," Jerome retorted, with a sneer, easily blasting the man out of his seat with his shotgun. The others present gasped in shock, before dread-filled silence pervaded the room once again. Meyer had, unbeknowst to Jerome and Amelia, pressed a panic switch under his desk to alert the others on the premises of the trespassers as well as the police. "Your silence tells me you know something, Mister Meyer, _speak up!"_ Jerome growled, in an impatient sing-songy tone, pressing the cold barrel to his gun against the man's cheekbone.

Amelia prowled towards one employee, wanting to make their point ever clearer as she leaned closely to the white-haired woman who gasped as a pistol was placed against her head. "You'd look so much better in red, don't cha think?" Amelia purred, to which the woman yelped and attempted to recoil, screaming as Amelia pinned her to the table aggressively.

"Okay, okay," Meyer at last obliged, hoping the police were close. Sweat trickled against the skin of his forehead as he looked to Jerome with pleading eyes. "Just don't hurt anyone else. The only way I've ever communicated with Mr. Wilde was through a proxy," he made known, Jerome tilting his head faintly as cold, insane eyes never left the man's face. "He's- he's never actually spoken to anyone in person..."

Jerome's gaze flicked over as he noticed employees rushing out of their work stations, flooding the hallways around them and making way to the elevators and emergency exits. "Cupcake," Jerome indicated to Amelia, "get out of here, would ya? I'll catch up with you soon," Jerome winked to Amelia as the employees in the room rushed outside, panicking. Amelia made way outside then, knowing Jerome was just trying to spare her the trouble of potentially having to deal with the police. It irritated her a little, though she was also aware he still needed to get the information he needed.

Meanwhile Jerome hauled Meyer from his desk, demanding he give him all the information he had on this proxy.

Once they reached a less brightly-lit office, Meyer shook almost violently as he printed out the information for the red haired loon holding him hostage, handing it to him then. "Spare me, would you? Please?" the man pleaded with wide eyes then as Jerome looked over the sheet of paper with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. It seemed confusing to him, though he would find a way to work with it. There seemed to be an IP address, which he knew was traceable.

Fingers tapped on his gun a moment before he shook his head. "Nah," Jerome decided, shooting and killing Meyer before he took to the halls to see to his escape. People were still filing out of the building, alarms blaring in Jerome's ears. He took to an elevator hastily, trying to plan his route to get past any obstacles. Once he'd reached the ground floor, he prowled quietly and quickly.

Making way around one corner, he skidded back to hide along the wall as soon as he caught sight of Jim Gordon and his trusty sidekick Harvey Bullock.

"There's no point in hiding, clown-boy," Harvey said grimly as he pointed his gun.

"Come with us quietly. If you resist, we won't hesitate to shoot," Jim added firmly.

" _Bah_ ," Jerome blanched, "Jimbo, you always tend to ruin my fun, don't you? Maybe, you should try not to be such a stickler for once. How about a joke? Knock, knock-" Jerome had strolled a small ways from the wall, before Harvey fired his gun, missing Jerome by just a hair.

Firefly made way into the scene then, Jerome grinning as he noticed her. It seemed she made it right on time. "Who's there, you ask? Well, here's your answer," Jerome continued as he scampered away whilst cackling gleefully, just in time for Firefly to blast her flames in Jim's direction.

"It is a good thing you're a skilled escape artist," Amelia mused from her place waiting at her car for Jerome. The two hoped inside of the silver vehicle and skid their way away from the scene and towards home.

— _A few hours later_ _—_

Neither Amelia, Xavier, Holly nor Laura had any experience in tracking an IP address, thus Jerome would have to head out to seek some resources on his own. Surely tracking his brother down was already proving to be a huge pain in the rear, though he had expected as much.

Back and the Jester's Haunt, the others took to the backyard to have a small bonfire and unwind for a while. The others had been off on their own tasks the last few days, aiding some other criminals such as Dr. Freeze, Hatter or even Penguin. Holly had warned Laura that the deals with him might have the potential to get more tedious than what was necessary, though his paranoia over potentially being placed under a curse seemed to be keeping him at bay.

"Any time I bring up a curse, he's rather quick to change his tune," Laura sent on from her place seated by the fire when Holly proceeded to chide her a bit over her involvement with him. "For the record though I plan on avoiding any interactions with him. He surely has a very... _schemey_ aura."

"Well, it is good you're taking precautions. We surely have to watch our butts especially now that we're making this much money," Xavier pointed out. "It comes with the potential downfall of losing a lot if we don't play our cards right."

"Even if we do end up in a pickle, surely we've got each others backs," Holly pointed out.

"That is the good thing about being a part of a coven, the loyalty is rather strong," Amelia said, then taking a bite of her smores and passing the bag of marshmallows to Xavier.

"Jerome's missing out," Xavier chuckled.

"The guy always has a way of being the life of the party, huh?" Laura nudged Amelia, who stuck her tongue out at her sister playfully, knowing she was teasing her.

"He's been gone a while," Holly commented. Just then Amelia's cell proceeded to ring. Pulling it from her jean's pocket, she flipped it open.

"Yup?" Amelia greeted, knowing it was Jerome. "Something come up?"

"I need you to meet me somewhere," Jerome sent on, his tone sounding sort of odd to Amelia, something of a growl and a whisper.

She furrowed her brows, getting up from her spot for some privacy. "Yeah? Where?"

Soon Amelia found herself making way to a pretty random address seemingly out in the middle of nowhere. The witch couldn't help but think this was awfully abrupt, though she supposed perhaps Jerome had already found out where his brother was hiding.

She pulled up to a sizable building, it looked to be an old, smallish shopping mall. Driving around the dark parking lot, she hadn't seen Jerome anywhere, oddly. The back door to the place had been left open though, with Jerome's logo and an arrow pointing inside, scrawled on with green Sharpie.

Amelia huffed, not exactly understanding what he was playing at. She rolled her eyes impatiently, exiting her car then and proceeding inside.

The place was dimly lit and barren, and when she looked up she could see up the higher levels. Raising a brow, she kept her hand on the hilt of her katana in case this were a trap as she proceeded to the stairway. The intercoms blared to life, causing Amelia to jump a little.

"Okay, cupcake," Jerome's voice came through the speakers. "You're a smart young lady... I thought I would make you work in order to get to your prize," Jerome drawled softly.

"Prize? What the hell are you talking about?!" She called, climbing up the stairs then hastily.

"Ah, ah," Jerome _tsked,_ "it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?"


	18. Control Part Two

Amelia growled, already getting irritated. "C'mon, Jerome! You know I hate it when you mess around..." the witch shouted, her sharp voice echoing off of the walls. "This had better not be a trap," she muttered then under her breath.

The raven haired young woman looked in various rooms, to no avail. It seemed he wasn't actually _in_ any of the empty shop rooms. If someone were holding Jerome captive, or even if perhaps he were messing with her, she supposed he might be somewhere a bit more elusive. She growled under her breath as she continued along, annoyed.

Eventually Amelia proceeded into the back portion of the mall, where the warehouse would have been. She made way down a long, dingy and honestly eerie-looking corridor, before she reached the rusted doors to the warehouse. Pushing through with a loud _screech_ , she held her pistol out as she looked around.

That's when she at last spotted Jerome, in the midst of the warehouse. One of his hands was cuffed to a bar over his head, while a table lay in front of him with the device he was using to speak into the intercom. Wily eyes turned over to regard Amelia, who seemed to be looking hastily around. A grin crept onto his lips.

"What is this all about? Did someone do this to you?" Amelia questioned in concern. For a beat, he hadn't answered, merely looked at her with this feral look in his eyes. " _Answer me!"_ Amelia shrieked, beginning to get a bit freaked out.

A devious chuckle rolled out of Jerome. "Amelia, dearest... would you mind cuffing my other hand?"

"What?" Amelia asked, utterly lost at this point and getting more and more impatient. "Tell me what's going on, Jerome, seriously," she approached him then, looking into his face with a gaze that told she might just strangle him right then and there.

"I want you..." Jerome sent on, his eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. Amelia didn't know what to make of his expression, nor his tone. It was some peculiar mixture of strain and just sheer unsteadiness. "...to cuff my other hand, Amelia... We both know the pain and suffering you have been through in your past," he at last sent on, "as well as how it has effected you. _Scarred_ you. I'm here because I want to help you get past it," a faint chuckle rolled from his lips, though died off quickly. "Come closer," he instructed.

Green eyes watched Jerome a little hesitantly before Amelia moved close enough that he could whisper into her ear. Her heart was racing a bit, the uncertainty and confusion that she felt then getting the better of her. " _Cuff_ me already," Jerome demanded in a harsh whisper. He was, in truth, very anxious about how this might turn out. For a long time Jerome felt this burning flame; his attraction and growing love for the young woman before him. His urges had festered long enough, and alas, he'd thought up a clever little loophole that would be beneficial for them both. Or at least, he _hoped_ his little plot might work. The red haired maniac could wait no longer, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Amelia by _forcing_ her to be one with him.

"And do to me, whatever your black little heart desires," a small cackle moved past Jerome then as Amelia leaned to look at his face, stepping back to observe him.

"Wait..." Amelia emitted, blinking a few times as she processed what he was doing. "You... want me to have my _'way'_ with you? Is that what this is?" Amelia asked, looking rather surprised.

Jerome flashed her a crooked grin. "Yes," he affirmed simply. Amelia's mouth literally fell open. Blood rushed to her face, her cheeks and nose reddening a decent amount.

Green eyes looked him over as she thought about that, a hand touching her chin. She burst out in laughter abruptly.

"What?" Jerome asked, furrowing his brows. "Is... is that a no?"

Amelia's laughing gradually died down, the chiming sound echoing off of the warehouse walls. "No- I mean, I just," Amelia stuttered, completely and utterly _floored_. "I didn't expect this. Not at all..." she walked to him, slowly, looking him over. Green eyes observed his face, his lips. Her heart thrummed firmly in her chest before she slowly moved to cuff his free hand. "I have to say, I don't think I can resist making you squirm a bit, though..." Amelia decided, flashing Jerome a devilish look that made his hazel eyes glint in intrigue.

Indeed, Amelia had to say that Jerome allowing her to take control was the perfect way for them to release all of that pent up tension. Amelia knew she had her desires for Jerome, though it was simply something she avoided due to her own traumas. Now however, she was vastly interested in focusing her attention on Jerome and having the chance to witness him in a position no one else _ever_ would.

Red lips met Jerome's, who returned her kiss fervently, or at least as fervently as his restraints would allow him to. Amelia's fingers raked through red tufts of hair, messing them all up a bit on purpose. Lips eventually trailed to his neck then so that she could bite at the supple skin there a moment.

Jerome's teeth flashed as he bit his lip, utterances threatening to fly out of him. The young maniac had gotten _far_ too pent up and was feeling especially eager for whatever Amelia might do. "How far might you go, I wonder...?" Jerome sent on, nearly in a purr.

"That is for me to know and you to find out," Amelia responded simply, flashing him a sportive smirk. A hitched breath left Jerome as Amelia moved swiftly then. She'd drawn her katana, slicing right through his jacket and slicing him faintly as well. The longing as well as the stinging feeling of pain he now felt drove him mad in the best of ways. Pale hands trailed all along Jerome's shoulders, his toned stomach. Having enjoyed the sound he made a moment ago, Amelia dug her nails into Jerome's back, drawing some blood where she scratched him. The stinging caused a low chuckle, a sensual sound, to tumble out of Jerome as he arched his back a bit.

"You really know how to press my buttons, Amelia," Jerome murmured, head dipping back then as he felt her tugging his pants around his ankles. All of his anticipation had already rendered his length swollen and stiff, to which Amelia smirked and blushed a bit. The feeling of hands caressing his torso shifted then to his thighs, Jerome responding by licking his lips hungrily. It hadn't taken long before lips encased his twitching member and a sizable moan flew from his lips. Jerome's eyes rolled back then as his head spun and spun, not having expected this to be so very intense.

Despite him occasionally messing with ladies in the past and behaving like an utter creep, the ginger was rather inexperienced in these sorts of endeavors. Of course, he'd had his share of some naughty instances in the past, especially around age sixteen, though nothing quite like this. Being chained up like this whilst his lover at last let her steel walls down was more thrilling than anything Jerome had done as of yet. All he could feel now was Amelia's hot mouth working, engulfing him. All he could hear now was this whooshing in his head and the sound of his own hitched breathing, groans and moans. Hands clutched the bars that held him up, knuckles whitening as Jerome felt himself beginning to approach his limit.

"Amelia-" he almost pleaded, brainlessly as he felt his toes curling. Hazel eyes squeezed shut as he felt Amelia smirk against his heat, pleased that he was in such a weak state. A slight yelp and a laugh pushed past him the moment he felt hands grasping his rear. His mind spun madly then as he felt his whole body tense, bright white flashing in his mind briefly as semen exploded out of him. Amelia drew back the moment she felt him about to expel his seed, the hot liquid spurting onto the floor. Green eyes looked him over, almost hungrily as she witnessed Jerome in such a state; naked, sweating, faintly bloodied and struggling to catch his breath. The red haired lunatic had been rendered utterly helpless and Amelia couldn't have felt more complacent.


	19. Ensnared

Jerome's mind had still been buzzing a bit after the previous night. Even with how tantalizing it had all been, he could not help but itch for more. Granted, getting rid of his brother was a top priority more than anything. Amelia herself was still utterly surprised at the events of last night, the others in the house growing curious over the looks Jerome and Amelia tended to share now.

"I swear, they 'did the deed'," Xavier joked to Holly and Laura when they were hanging out in the underground coven.

Laura shot him a wide eyed looked. "What?! You really think that's what it is...?"

"It's gotta be," Xavier shrugged largely. "You've seen those looks they give each other recently, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess, but I just figured it was because they are working together on tracking down Jerome's twin..." Laura murmured, her eyebrows furrowing. "There's no way they've done that yet, Amelia is probably hopeless in that regard... especially giving into someone like Jerome?" she shuddered.

"After we saved her a while back, her attitude towards Jerome has softened quite a bit," Holly pointed out. Laura merely gave her this dumbfounded look. Then, she cleared her throat, looking uncomfortable.

"Okay, well, _Xavier_ ," she chided to her boyfriend, brown eyes burning into him as she smacked his arm with her fist. "Whatever the case, it really isn't any of our business, so quit being nosey!"

Upstairs, Jerome paced impatiently as he awaited a fax from the connection he found yesterday that had traced the IP address he'd gotten from Meyer. As the file at last came in, he darted to the machine and yanked it out as soon as it printed.

"Bingo," he murmured to himself, smirking before he dashed off to the bedroom. Amelia was inside, organizing some her witchy supplies. The maniac couldn't help but admire her a bit the way she looked now, clean out of the shower, her short black hair sliced back out of her face and a soft silk robe contrasting harshly against her pale skin. Going about the room, Jerome got together some of his supplies hastily, then proceeded peeling off the pajamas he currently wore. Amelia glanced over, raising her eyebrow to him suggestively.

"I've got a location, duty calls," Jerome sent on hastily as he pushed past her to fetch an outfit in the closet she stood inside of.

"I take it you're going to go it alone this time too?" Amelia questioned, looking mildly disapproving.

"That is the plan," Jerome affirmed as he buttoned his vest and then yanked on a coat and gloves. "Don't give me that look," he chided, a bit jestfully as Amelia glared at him. He abruptly pulled her into a firm, rough kiss. As he pulled away, he looked to her eyes, a hand on her cheek. Even while in a rush, Jerome had this odd way of being rather intense. "It isn't as if you won't be able to find a way to find me if I end up in some sort of... predicament. Which I will not," he assured, prodding the top of her nose.

Amelia grimaced faintly, swatting at him. "This is your brother we are talking about... mister undetectable," she pointed out. Something was seemingly sitting at the pit of Amelia's stomach. She had a bad feeling and surely did not want Jerome to do this alone.

"It's a personal matter, darling," he reminded her, tilting his head a little as Amelia's shoulders slumped a bit.

"Fine, whatever," she waved him off, to which he was making his way out with his knives safely tucked into his coat. Green eyes trailed to the door though, teeth biting nervously at her lip.

Decidedly, Jerome took to his destination by foot. It seemed it was not far away, which was amusing to him. The address found for him would likely lead him right to this proxy, in turn they should very likely lead Jerome straight to Jeremiah if he played his cards correctly.

Prowling along, he took to some alleyways to conceal himself, until he reached the cluster of townhomes he was seeking out. With a swift glance around, he made way inside and skulked through the hallways until he found the correct apartment number.

Then, quietly, he unfacined the lock with a paperclip that he'd merely unfolded. Taking a look around, it seemed no one was home now. Jerome sneered faintly, not wanting to wait. _'Guess I got no choice, for the time being,'_ he mused, before taking to a shadowed hallway leading to the bathroom.

Jerome waited as patiently as he could, his mind reeling a bit as he reveled in the thought of at last sinking his blade into that pathetic brother of his. The mere thought of that little snake seemed to send venom racing through his veins... there truly was no other he would relish more to kill.

Thoughts were interrupted after a while as he heard the front door to the apartment open and then click shut. Peering over quietly, curiously, Jerome now knew that this proxy seemed to be a dainty looking blonde woman... likely around 25 years old. She was placing some grocery bags onto her counter, not having noticed Jerome yet.

It took everything in him not to cackle at that fact. ' _It seems this proxy is just a mere little woman? Hah! This should be easy enough, then,_ ' he decided, feeling poised then, he emerged from the shadows, flipping his blade into his palm and gaining a threatening expression.

Hazel eyes turned to the grocery bags momentarily as he saw the woman pause a little in her steps. He tilted his head faintly. "Oooh, lunch time already? Got any cake in there?" Jerome mused as the woman hadn't looked to him directly.

"What do you want?" she questioned, attempting to look frozen in her place. What Jerome was not aware of, was the fact that Ecco, Jeremiah's proxy, was also his professionally trained body guard.

"I know that you have a connection to 'Xander Wilde'," Jerome sent on, seeming to adopt Amelia's more cut and dry approach then. He was anxious to curl his hands around Jeremiah's scrawny neck, after all. He stepped a bit closer, knife positioned towards Ecco. "Why don't you make these easy on both of us and cough up his location? Unless of course, you would rather be cut to _ribbons_ ," Jerome sent on, glowering at her.

Ecco hesitated. "You see that cage over there?" She questioned suddenly. Jerome hadn't looked at the cage directly, though recalled passing it by on his way into the apartment.

"Uh," he stammered, not really understanding what she was getting at, "Yeah, sure. Probably for a big dog or something, though that isn't the point-"

"It's what I'll be using to transport you," she said before she was turning quickly to send her fist sailing into Jerome's face. He toppled, not expecting in the slightest that she'd have been that strong _or_ that fast. A growl rolled from him. This was all only setting him back now and Jerome was growing very impatient. He dodged a few more strikes, though was not quick enough to keep up with her.

Soon enough Ecco had Jerome backed against the wall and was wrestling him into the cage. Jerome reached, slicing her in the arm to which she emitted a pained hiss, though oddly had not faltered. Shoving Jerome's head into the cage then, she locked it up hastily before gathering a casing around it as well.

Ecco yelped as Jerome used his knives to stab through the bag, trying to find where Ecco was. "Really, this is just rude, don't you think?" Jerome sent on in a growl. "Stuffing me in here like this, I could suffocate, you know?" he said impatiently as he stabbed some more holes into the bag. Ecco fetched some knockout powder, unzipped the carrier and threw it directly in Jerome's face.

— _Back at The Jester's Haunt—_

There was no denying the anxiety Amelia was feeling. It was beginning to fester in a way it had not in a while and her sisters surely noticed.

Soon she was walking hastily over to the coven entrance.

"What's up, Amelia?" Laura called after her, then trailing after her along with Holly who had noted the anxiety emitting from her sister.

"Something's wrong, I need to get to the crystal ball," she sent on, speaking quickly as she then trailed to the table in the midst of the coven. Lifting the black, silken cover from the orb, Amelia took a breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm and for this anxiety clutching at her chest to halt. Her sisters stood near, allowing in some of their own calming energy to aide her.

Moving her hands over the orb then, green eyes glanced then to the image. Jerome was obscured, placed into what looked to be a box with a cover over it, holes stabbed in random places. He didn't seem to be moving, though Amelia sensed he was alive. Trying her absolute best to keep her emotions in check, she looked to Holly.

"Sis, do me a favor and reprint the last incoming fax we received," she looked to Laura then. "And if you could grab my keys, I've got some planning to do, make it quick," Amelia sent on calmly as the image fell away. Her heart was slamming against her chest as she dialed a number she had saved on speed dial, belonging to the others in the Legion.

" _Damn it_ , you damn unthinking moron," Amelia hissed through gritted teeth. Jerome had gotten himself in a tough situation, all thanks to his unrelenting persistence. Amelia hoped, _prayed_ that trait would not get him killed, though a situation like this had her a nervous wreck.

After speaking with Hatter and Scarecrow to come up with a meeting point to pick them up, she went to slip into something more suitable for being out of the house; her usual white collared shirt, a black and red plaid gothic type skirt and her longer combat boots. As usual she sported some accessories, a studded choker, some bracelets and the like.

Amelia rushed her way over to the barren meeting point around some old vacant shops to scoop up Hatter and Scarecrow then. She knew it would be best to come with a couple of others. When it came to Jerome's brother, Amelia had a feeling that someone that was as good at hiding as he was would likely be prepared for this kind of scenario. Seeing as his proxy had stuffed Jerome into a box and knocked him out as well confirmed as much. Amelia sent this information onto the others as Scarecrow traced the address on the fax print out with a GPS device.

The closer they got to their destination, the more anxious Amelia became. She had some faith in her crazed boyfriend, though really sometimes he could be utterly stupid. Once they pulled up to the apartment homes, Amelia parked just a small distance off so that she was not sticking out like a sore thumb.

"Look there," Hatter motioned to the complex as a blonde haired young woman was lugging the cage Jerome was in into the back of a black van.

"Shit," Amelia huffed, "it looks like she's taking him off somewhere..." It was a relief however, that Jerome was still alive in that blasted cage. Their trio of lunatics would need to act quickly.


End file.
